Wrong Place, Wrong Time
by LittleChicago
Summary: A follow up to Broken Mirror. Harry's old teacher is in town... for a reunion, of sorts.
1. Chapter 1

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

I shook my head and took a bite of my steak sandwich. It was heavenly, as usual. Mac, the owner/operator/brewmaster/miracle worker of McAnally's Pub had outdone himself. I eyed my old teacher, Ebenezar McCoy, across our small table in the corner of the best eatery in Chicago. "Sir, it's just not a good idea," I said quietly. "And even if it was, I doubt I'm the best man for the job."

The old man wore a patient look under his thin white hair and beard. "I can't think of anyone better, Hoss."

I shook my head. It was as a tempting offer, I had to give him that. A chance to try something new, at the very least. I put down my sandwich and shrugged out of my leather duster. It was hot in McAnally's today, just like the rest of the city. Summer's last gasp was making everyone uncomfortable. The place was virtually empty, with only one other table occupied on the other side of the building, but Mac was standing behind the bar, polishing glasses, wearing a spotless apron and not a drop of sweat on him.

McCoy himself was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. I couldn't remember him wearing anything but overalls even back in Missouri. "I'm just not the man for a finesse job, Sir. I get a little blind when it comes to details."

"Hogwash. You stitched the Archive back together with no trouble."

"That was the spell I was working. I combined my power with Kincaid's eye for detail."

McCoy grunted and made a face. I'd almost forgotten how much animosity there was between the two assassins. No, animosity was the wrong term. Furious, writhing, hatred was closer. "Your power. Heard all about that."

I froze with my sandwich halfway back to my mouth. "Oh?" I said. Damn I'm sharp.

He fixed me with a penetrating stare. He'd soulgazed me on the day I'd arrived at his farm in Hog Hollow, so I had no fear of it ever happening again. But the man had a few centuries worth of experience giving penetrating stares, and I instantly became uncomfortable. "Soulfire ain't exactly a common gift, Hoss."

I put down the sandwich and grabbed a bottle of Mac's homebrew. It was even better than the steak, and that's saying something. It would have been nice if Mac would serve it cold sometime. I'd made the suggestion once. My steaks were burnt for a month. I downed half the bottle, trying to think. When I put it back down McCoy was still staring at me. Ah, hell. "I know, Sir. It's a tool I use sparingly. I don't want to burn my own soul to dust any more than the next guy."

He almost laughed. "Burn it? Harry, do you have any idea of the depths of the human soul?"

"Sir?"

"Look, I only know what you and Ivy and… her bodyguard told us. But Soulfire won't kill you fast, Hoss. And it's the kind of power we're gonna need to make this work."

"Seriously? I thought…" In truth, I'd thought using Soulfire to power my spells would kill me if I wasn't careful. It was a great tool, and damn powerful, but using my own soul as fuel for my magic was… dangerous. "I thought I had to be careful."

"Oh, you have to be careful, Hoss. But a soul like yours… it'll take a lot to consume it."

"A lot, huh?" I leaned in and lowered my voice still further. "Like a time travel spell?"

He checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was close. "Not quite."

I shook my head. "It's the most dangerous magic there is. I've done a little research into it. I mean, very little. I'm all for hitting the establishment below the belt, but destroying the universe doesn't really appeal."

He chuckled. "Not to me either, Boy. That's why you do it very carefully… and with a person you can trust." He subtly emphasized the last word.

I knew he trusted me. Hell, he probably trusted me more than I trusted him, but he's older and wiser, and my work as a wizard P.I. has made my paranoia second nature. And truth be told, trust was a precious thing in the magical community at the moment. "Have you ever even done it before, Sir?"

He nodded. "Twice. And both times, it was a similar situation. There was just nothing to be learned in the here and now, and the Council needed information. And didn't care how they got it."

They'd have to not care. Time travel was against the Sixth Law – Thou Shalt Not Swim Against the Currents of Time. It was also a Law I agreed with very much. The consequences were just so… _universal_.

As the Blackstaff, the White Council's black ops magical commando, McCoy had tacit permission to break the Laws – with the standard _Mission Impossible_ caveat. I took another bite of my sandwich, chewing slowly.

"I don't have to remind you, Hoss, that there is still a conspiracy against us. You did us a great service by exposing Peabody. But until we know who he was answering to, we're stonewalled."

The conspiracy against the White Council of Wizards had been going on for some time – our enemies were too well organised, and the occasional traitor in our midst wasn't helping. Someone out there wanted the Council destroyed – and had the influence to make it happen. I'd dubbed them the Black Council, and somehow the name had not only stuck, it had become a by-word for all things anti-wizard.

I popped my last bite into my mouth, wiped my hands on my shorts, and crossed my arms, while Ebenezar waited, quietly. He recognized my thinking pose. He knew he didn't have to remind me of all the victims the Black Council had already claimed. The war with the Vampire Courts hadn't helped, but I'm now pretty sure I'd been manipulated into starting that war by the conspirators. That, coupled with all the attempts on my life over the last few years, and all the bodies that had been stacked up in my stead, made me want to find out who was behind it very, very badly.

But despite our best efforts, Ebenezar, myself, and whoever else he had harangued into joining our 'Grey Council', we just couldn't find anything new. The bad guys were covering their tracks very well. We needed a new tack.

But Ebenezar didn't have the fundamental understanding I had of myself. Power was bad. Far too often, I had thought about what it would be like if I could just smite my enemies down, take what I wanted, and enjoy the high life. I mean, who hasn't wanted to smack the jerk who cut them off in traffic with a baseball bat?

Now imagine traffic as your whole life, and the baseball bat as fire and lightning, and you see why I have to be cautious.

I shook my head. "I understand the situation, Sir. But I honestly don't trust myself with that kind of power. The temptation to reshape history is just… beyond."

"Beyond what?"

"Just… beyond. Beyond me, my self-control, maybe."

"If that's your answer, I'll respect it, Hoss, but remember that I'm allowed, and _supposed_ to kill anyone I think has or will violate the Laws. And you're still here." He smiled pleasantly behind his wispy white beard, but a chill went down my spine.

"I know, Sir. And believe me, I know how many people you've, uh, mistrusted over the years. But I'm telling you…" _What, exactly? You're telling the man who was charged with killing you if you ever practised black magic that you are tempted by black magic? Hell's bells, that would be brilliant_. "I don't know the first thing about how to handle myself in another time. I can barely handle myself now."

"You handle yourself by not talking to anyone, or doing anything, Hoss. Not attracting attention. Just go, listen in on your target, and get back. Pretty simple."

"Oh, sure, when you put it like _that_. Easy as setting the table. Except when you drop this plate, the universe shatters." McCoy chuckled at that. "I was recently called a bull in a china shop, Sir. I'm afraid I'd make you drop your plate."

McCoy gave me an amused look. "That was the weakest metaphor I've ever heard, son."

"It's the best I could come up with." Silence hung between us for a moment. Then another. "Sir, I'm a magical thug. I make thing happen by forcing power into them until they work. Even that healing bit with Ivy, I was using – uh, someone else's concentration inside the circle."

"From I hear, Kincaid was a little off that whole trip. Emotionally compromised. Wasn't thinking or acting with his usual flair." McCoy's lips seemed to curl up a bit, almost in a grin.

I sighed. "Can I think about it for a bit?"

He nodded slowly. "All right. I'll be in town for the next 24 hours," he said, standing up. "Keep this in mind, though." He leaned down near my face, and lowered his voice still further. "I don't want to go far. 8 years, that's it. Little less, in fact. And I want to stay in Chicago."

"To a time and place when I was already practising in the open? Gee, that couldn't possibly lead to a paradox."

McCoy smiled, but it was a fatherly expression. He took a business card out of his breast pocket and stood up straight. "Here's the number. Call me if you change your mind, Harry."

I looked him in the eye. He almost never used my given name. Before I could say anything more, he grabbed a staff leaning against the table that looked a great deal like my own, turned, and walked out.

I sat there for a while, trying to think. I didn't get very far. Part of me wanted very badly to pick up the card. To take the old man up on his offer. Even to just know what it was like to have my own private _Back to the Future_…

The other part of me didn't want to know. Didn't want to know what it was like, didn't want to know how it was done… for fear I'd like it.

Oh, if Lash could only see me now. The carbon-copy of a Fallen Angel had lived inside my head for three years, tempting me with power, and the whole time I'd kept telling her I didn't want or need it. How she would laugh.

Well, maybe not. In the end, I think I got through to her. She basically died to save my life, albeit by causing me minor brain damage. But lately, I was getting signals that maybe she was still in there, somewhere, floating around.

I shoved that thought aside and looked a the card again. The power, the danger, the possible benefits all warred for attention in my mind. There was such a risk involved. I could really screw up time itself. I could hurt people I knew… or save people I once knew, completely re-writing the way their lives had gone… or mine.

But, dangerous as it could be, time travel just sounded so _cool_.

I picked up the damn card and headed home.

*****

The boarding house where I live hasn't changed much in the last century, except for the door to my basement apartment. I've replaced it twice after massive bad guy-inflicted damage. The second time, I actually got it straight in the frame. I carried my duster and staff to the door, laid my left hand on it, and performed the mental movements that disable my protective wards. As I did, Mister, my 30 pound tailless tabby sauntered down the stairs. "Hey. Kill anything small and defenceless today?"

He gave me a look that on a person would have led to a smile, and threw himself against my legs. I lost my balance and fell against the door, tripping over the one-inch threshold and falling flat on my face.

Not my smoothest entrance.

Made all the worse by the fact that I was seen by the person waiting in my apartment.

I brought my mental focus and left arm up at the same time, creating a shield between me and the intruder. It might not take every possible hit, but it was better than nothing and might just buy me a second or two to act.

"Wizard Dresden. It is good to see you."

The tall – and I mean roughly seven-foot – wizard in my apartment wore a very dark robe with the hood pulled up, in spite of the heat. He was facing one of my many bookshelves, holding an old paperback open in one hand. His voice was powerful but dry, as though he'd spent far too long in the desert. And he had an accent that made me think of the middle east.

I stood, dropping my shield. "Gatekeeper." I nodded politely at the most enigmatic mortal I'd ever met. I nodded at the book. "I didn't realize you were a Frank Herbert fan."

He nodded. "The man was almost prescient," he said, putting _Dune Messiah_ back on the shelf.

"So," I said, still politely, and a little confused, "what brings you breaking into my home today?"

He bowed, a little. "I apologise. It was very hot outside. It is much cooler in here."

He had a point. Despite the candles burning at irregular intervals all over the place, it was several degrees cooler inside than out. I dropped the politeness. "That's true. But _how_ did you get in here?"

"I have known your wards for some time, Wizard Dresden."

I got another shiver down my spine. So, two members of the Senior Council are in town, both wanted to see me, and both are acting like they know me better than I know myself. Grand. "Well, that's… creepy." Silence reigned for a moment. "Can I get you a Coke?"

"Do you have ice?"

"Yes."

"Then, thank you, yes."

Not sure what answer I'd been expecting. But hell, the man had taste. I closed my door. Mouse, my personal dogasaurus rex, was napping by the fireplace. "Some guard dog you are," I said, giving him an unhappy glare. He yawned and grinned at me, then got up and padded over to the Gatekeeper. The old wizard gave him a friendly scratch behind the ears. "Traitor," I grumbled.

I dug through the old ice box, grabbed a couple cans, then shovelled ice into a pair of glasses and filled them with liquid Ambrosia. Don't get me wrong, Mac's ale is second to none when it comes to alcoholic beverages. But Coke is the greatest pick-me-up yet invented by man. I handed a glass over.

"Thank you."

"So, dare I ask what brings you to town?"

He took a large gulp, then paused a second with his eyes closed. I think. They were hard to see, tucked back in his hood. Then he looked straight at me. "You already know why I'm here."

"You've never really gone in for straight answers, have you?"

I could have sworn I saw his good eye twinkle. "What do you think?"

I made a face and guzzled my own drink.

"I know why Wizard McCoy approached you today."

I wasn't completely sure what I was supposed to say and not say. The Gatekeeper may or may not have been a part of the Gray Council. I settled for, "Oh?"

"Yes. As Blackstaff, he may do whatever he wishes without fear of reprisal. Acting under his auspices, you would enjoy that same immunity."

"Yeah, I gathered."

"Unless of course, you were seen."

I lowered the glass. "Seen?"

"In the past."

"Right."

"By a past version of someone."

"Someone?"

"A wizard. Or a Warden. Or anyone with a mantle of power."

"What are you trying to say?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he guzzled the rest of his Coke and put the glass down on my coffee table. "I believe you should go, Wizard Dresden. Accompany your teacher. But you must also be careful."

I gave him an annoyed look before responding. "Well, thanks for that. I'm glad it wasn't too vague, or anything."

He smiled in the shadow of his hood. "Heed me words, Wizard Dresden. I take my leave, now."

He headed for the door. "Oh, sure," I said. "Thanks for dropping by. Next time, take off your hood, stay a while."

He turned back as he got the door open. "Perhaps I will."

Then he was gone, and I was left in my apartment, confused and a little shaken. The Gatekeeper rarely involved himself with… well, with anything. When he did, it was invariably a world-altering event. Usually with a lot of lives hanging in the balance. And he always had more information than he let on. Which meant he knew even more about the whole time-travel deal than he had said. And his advice had been straight forward, even if his reasons had not; I should go with Ebenezar.

I sat down, and Mouse lay his enormous head in my lap. I petted him absent-mindedly. The Gatekeeper's advice was also always good. I had it on fairly good authority that at least some of what he knew was obtained from the future, one way or another.

"He probably already knows what decision I'm going to make," I said to myself. "Which means he came here to convince me to make that decision."

"But if he already knew," myself replied, "why'd he have to convince you?"

"Good point, Precious. If he felt he had to convince me… ah. Right. Free will. What a fickle bitch."

I pulled the card out of my pocket, and stared at the number, then grabbed the phone.


	2. Chapter 2

The warehouse held uncomfortable memories for me. A few years ago, during another heat wave, I'd been called here in my role as a Warden, a soldier of the White Council, to witness the execution of a young man whose use of magic had corrupted him. Some of his blood had hit my face when his head was lopped off. Some of it was still on the floor, in the form of a faded brown stain on the concrete.

Otherwise, the place was mostly empty. It had been purchased and maintained by the White Council years ago, and appeared abandoned and tightly boarded up to casual eyes. But a few see-me-not charms (and no, that's not what they're actually called) kept random vandals and squatters from breaking in.

Aside from me and my dog, Ebenezar and his little wooden box, there was nothing in the cavernous place. "Glad you came, Hoss." McCoy's voice echoed a bit. He was still dressed the same, and with reason; the warehouse held the heat in, amplified it, and used it to baste innocent wizards. Mean old warehouse. I was carrying my duster and staff.

"Got a feeling it was just what I was supposed to do," I said, and closed the distance between us. He was right in the middle of the place, and walked up to meet me a few yards from the box. "There are no wardens guarding the place."

McCoy tapped a finger to his nose. "The Blackstaff has no official escort, boy. Had to watch my own sizable backside on the way here. Which is another reason I asked you to bring your friend along," he said, looking at Mouse.

I nodded, and smirked at my dog. "He's an expert backside watcher. He prefers the ladies, though."

He made a sighing sound, and I swear he rolled his eyes at me.

I glanced around a bit. The warehouse was uncomfortable for me in many ways, the heat simply the most physical. Not long after the execution I'd witnessed, I'd returned here, and almost been part of another one. Again, the blood stain on the floor drew my attention.

"Thinking about your apprentice?"

I nodded again. "Yes, Sir. It was a close call that day."

"Sure was. You did good, boy. Molly Carpenter needed a guardian angel that day."

"I like to think I filled in nicely."

"You out-manoeuvred the Merlin himself. Anyone who can spit in that self-righteous jackass' face has my respect." I'd pissed off the most powerful wizard on Earth that day, making it politically expedient for him to spare Molly's life. And in so doing, had bought myself a sentence of still on-going probation-by-proxy. If Molly broke the law again, she and I would both be executed. Wasn't the first time such a thing had happened, though.

"I was just following your example, Sir."

He snorted. "How's her father?"

I smiled. "Michael is Michael. He limps, he's half-blind, he smiles a lot. He can still kick the living crap out of anything that stands against him, even without a Sword."

I use a lot of capital letters when I talk. The Sword is _Ammorachius_, but some people, long ago, called it Excalibur. One of three Swords with a nail from the crucifixion worked into the hilt, they were bourn by the Knights of the Cross, an order dedicated to stopping and redeeming evil. Michael had been a Knight until he was wounded by a Denarian.

The Order of the Blackened Denarius was composed of 30 Fallen Angels, and was the principal enemy of the Knights. I should know. Lasciel was one of them. And at this moment, two of the Swords, _Ammorachius_ and _Fidelachius,_ were both sitting in my apartment, unused, entrusted to me by their last bearers. Talk about irony.

McCoy nodded, half a smile on his face. "Good man. Shame he was taken out of the game."

"He's earned his rest, Sir."

"No argument, Hoss."

"You know, what with how we're supposed to be super-sneaky and all, Molly is a natural at veils."

McCoy arched an eyebrow. "I can work a veil pretty well, myself, boy. And besides, she doesn't know about the Blackstaff, now does she?"

"No, Sir." Mentally, I wiped my brow. I'd only offered because Molly really was talented, and we needed to be very careful. I'd brought her along to rescue Ivy because she genuinely cared about the kid, and her veil skills were important when dealing with Jade Court vampires, who are almost constantly veiled. Otherwise, I would have made her stay behind.

Besides, I didn't want to mention that sometimes, Molly worried me. The same way I worried me. You know, with the whole too-much-power thing. Veils weren't her only natural talent. She also found entering other people's minds disturbingly easy. "It's for the best, anyway. She's minding the shop while I'm gone."

"Come again?"

"She's at my office, taking clients. Referring them to vanilla P.I.'s. Taking their information for me if she thinks something is genuinely supernatural in nature. Slamming the phone down on the crank calls. It's good practice for her people skills."

"You gonna turn her into a consulting wizard too?"

"If that's her choice. I'm not the only one, you know." My ex-girlfriend Elaine practised openly, too, out of L.A. Together, we ran the Paranet, a network of low-level talents and practitioners across most of the developed world. In the last year or so, it had become an excellent early-warning system and research tool. The wizard equivalent of the Internet.

In truth, Molly running the office was almost necessary these days, since Warden-ing and Paranet-ing took up so much of my time. Although, this month, I was technically on Warden vacation.

"She feeding your cat, too?"

"Nah, Murphy's doing that."

His eyebrows bounced. "That little police-lady friend of yours?"

"Don't let her hear you call her little. And yes, her. We have a deal. She feeds Mister when I go out of town, I water plants when she goes."

"And that's all?" He was starting to grin.

"Yes, Sir," I said slowly. "That's all it will ever be. She made that clear."

His grin vanished. "Sorry, Hoss."

"Forget it, Sir. What do we do now?"

He was all business in an instant, turning and walking back to his box. "First thing's first. This will be a full ritual. I'm laying out the circle, we're cleansing, and a little meditation wouldn't hurt."

"Had no idea it would be so… uh…"

"Intense? Complicated? Difficult?"

"Time-consuming," I said finally.

"There are only three known ways of travelling through time, Harry. For one, you need an entire 13-member coven powering it. Two, you invoke a demon and offer a fresh human sacrifice. Or three, you focus the first spell down to a manageable size, and get one person who can provide the power of 12 or 13."

My jaw fell open. "12 or 13? I… I have that?"

"If you have Soulfire, you do."

Wow. I closed my mouth and shook my head. "All right. Last chance to just bring in 13 professional living batteries."

"You can do this, Hoss. I'll guide you."

"One last question. When, exactly, did you come up with this idea?"

His face sobered. "Peabody's influence is gone, and that's been verified by three different council members. This is my idea, and mine alone, and I didn't have it until after I read Ivy and Kincaid's accounts and figured out what you did. And I need you to make it work."

I nodded. The worry that Ebenezar had been manipulated into this had been my last real objection. We needed answers, and we needed them yesterday. How better to accomplish that? "Alright. What's first?"

*****

Mouse stood guard while McCoy formed the large circle of fine white sand around our possessions, and I showered. The stalls were cracked and peeling, half-open to the rest of the warehouse, and mouldy. But the water ran, and that was all that mattered. Running water grounded magical energies, and could literally wash away random build ups. I also turned the washing into a mental clean-out, clearing my head.

As I dried off, I pictured myself wiping my concerns and doubts away. I know, it sounds like something out of a self-help book, but good visualisation is essential when working strong magic.

I dressed in clean clothes, dark pants and a soft, silk shirt. It was a present from Murphy. It was also very comfortable. I stepped into the circle without a word. There was just a small, three-inch gap left in the circle, which McCoy would complete when he returned from his own cleansing. There were five white candles embedded in the sand, one of them aligned to magnetic north. McCoy would light them when he began the actual spell. Meanwhile, I sat down, crossed my legs, and started breathing deeply.

I closed my eyes. I tuned out everything I could. I focussed on the pattern of my own breathing, feeling the rise and fall of my chest, seeing nothing. I wasn't going to be casting the spell, but I was going to be providing the power behind it. Any distraction, or random thought, could cause something… well, I wasn't sure, exactly. But I figured it would be really unpleasant.

When I opened my eyes again, my knees were numb, the circle was closed, the candles lit, and Mouse and McCoy were sitting with me. Ebenezar was breathing like I was. Mouse was lying down between us, his eyes lazily gazing at the only unlocked door. I saw McCoy's eyes open. We both wore perfectly neutral expressions.

"Ready," he said.

"Ready," I said.

We both stood, and he extended his left hand, while I took it with my right. Magic is all about balance; the body absorbs energy on the left, and projects on the right. I was about to pour energy into McCoy, which he would then take, shape, and direct into his spell. I didn't know the details, but if he needed energy, I was going to provide it.

For several minutes, nothing seemed to happen. Then, I heard McCoy murmuring under his breath. He was shaping the magic he had drawn into the circle. Circles seal magic in, allowing a spell to be focused more precisely, until the circle is broken and the spell is released.

McCoy raised his right hand, and his voice grew in volume, just a little. I began to feel a tug, inside my mind. Nothing major, just a gentle pull, like someone pinching the fabric of my shirt. I took that as the signal Ebenezar needed a little extra from me, so I started to give a gentle push.

For a few more minutes, that was enough. Then he pulled a little more. I gave a little more. That happened a few more times. I started to feel a bit of a drain. The downside of a circle was that it prevented me from drawing in magic from the surrounding environment. Which meant I had to start feeding more energy from myself. Of course, I only had one other source of power, and as the drain became heavier, and McCoy's voice got louder, I tapped into it.

Soulfire is a power of creation. It replaced the Hellfire Lash gifted me with, which was a power of destruction. The basic effect is the same – a great power boost. But as I started to pull on the power of my own soul, my own basic essence, I could feel the difference, even if I couldn't express it very well. Hellfire is a form of power; Soulfire _is_ power.

I gave it as the demand grew. The power drain kept growing. It began to feel like a hole, inside me, and yet outside. The hole wasn't deep, not yet, and the well I was drawing on was still full. I gave more. McCoy took it, and still needed more. My right hand began to glow a slight, baby blue. I vaguely noticed my left hand and feet were getting cold, while my right hand was getting warm. McCoy's voice was louder still, and I began to understand why; there was a subtle roar _behind_ his voice. It wasn't actual sound, though. It was a roar in my mind.

My breathing began to quicken. I felt Mouse beside me, pushing me, and realised I had begun to sway. The well of power I was drawing on was beginning to show a loss. I could feel _less_ of myself. Still, I continued to push it, letting it flow even faster, and every drop I forced forward was swallowed up and taken away by my old teacher.

The cold feeling crept into my knees, and my legs began to weaken. McCoy was shouting now, and Mouse was all but holding me up. Still, the power was drawn out of me as fast as I could muster it. The roar grew; it began to overwhelm McCoy's voice, and my vision blurred. I grunted with the effort of pushing power _out_, and _forward_. I wondered when McCoy would break the circle, and release the power he had built up.

My well was emptying. My mouth fell open and I heard myself groaning with effort. A headache spread across my brain, front to back. I hadn't had one since we rescued Ivy from the Jade Court, when Mr. Hai had taken all my memories… only for them to come screaming back on a bullet through my mind. Something else had happened then, too: I had seen Lasciel's sigil. The Fallen Angel's symbol had ripped through my mind at the same time as every image of my life.

Lash had saved me. I knew it, of course, but had been unwilling to actually say it, let alone think it. But it was true.

McCoy raised his hand straight up, and I suddenly knew he wasn't going to break the circle. Breaking the circle lets the energy back out, into the world. This was contained. He had to break something, and he needed the Hammer of God to do so. He was taking us _Outside_.

Outside is a vague concept at best. I can only tell you it means 'what lies beyond.' Beyond the world, the universe, all existence. The Outside isn't _here_. It's _there_. And it made sense, in some quiet, detached part of my head. Time's river only flows one way. McCoy was taking us out on the bank, and walking upstream.

My eyes were open, but I could barely see. I wasn't deaf, but I only heard one sound: the rush of time itself. I wasn't numb, but I felt only McCoy's hand and Mouse's steady strength beside me. My well of power, my soul itself, was almost dry.

Then, at the moment I thought I had to let go, had to give up, had to just sit down and breathe, I heard a voice, clear as day. _I am here, my host_. Then, more friendly and more fierce at the same time, _I am here, Harry_.

The heat returned to my hand, just for a moment, and I could have sworn I smelled brimstone.

Then McCoy's voice reached a crescendo, somehow still audible above the roar. I saw a blinding flash, then everything went still, and dark, and cold.


	3. Chapter 3

I opened my eyes. At first, it was all I could do, but even that much effort was painful. I closed them again, and slowly took stock of my situation. To start, I had a bitch of a headache, which I welcomed only as a sign that I was still alive. I tingled all over. I took a breath. Lungs still working; check. I could feel my heart beating, also a good sign. I moved my hands and feet. One quick check with my left hand confirmed everything important seemed to still be where I last left it.

I opened my eyes again, and it was easier this time. I turned my head, slowly, wincing away from the headache, but it was already starting to fade. Mouse was lying next to me, and appeared none the worse for wear. When I looked at him, he gave me a big doggie grin, and licked my nose, once. I tried my voice: "Good to see you, boy."

"And you, Hoss."

I rolled my head slowly the other way. Ebenezar was sitting there, on his little box, looking down at me, a relieved smile on his face. I smiled back. "We made it?"

"We did."

"How long was I out?"

"Hard to say. I blacked out for a might, myself. At least an hour. You had me worried for a bit. Mouse and me took turns giving you hugs."

I felt my eyebrows jump. "Um… what?"

"It's the simplest way to exchange a bit of soul energy. Physical contact with someone you care about."

"You… huh. I didn't realise you were such a… generous soul, Sir."

McCoy snorted and stood. "You're obviously just fine." I smiled and made a note to check with someone else about the condition of my soul before I touched Soulfire again. Ebenezar didn't show too much concern, and I didn't want to worry him, but I had almost burned through my whole essence. Those last few seconds…

Oh, boy. I suddenly remembered how those last few seconds had played out. McCoy offered me a hand, and I sat up, head just a little spinny. As I moved, I took a quick sniff of the air. No brimstone.

I nodded my thanks and got to my feet, Mouse following my example. We were still in the warehouse. The only difference I could see right away was the lack of a blood stain in the middle of the floor. And it was cooler.

McCoy began to collect his implements, and handed me my duster. Everything inside the circle had made the trip, apparently. With a little trepidation, I sent a thought down into the recesses of my mind. _Lash? Are you there?_

There was no answer. I tried again, and got the same response. I was both saddened and relieved.

I shook my head to clear it. "So. Where – I mean, when are we, exactly?"

"Well, if everything went according to plan, it should be October of eight years ago right now."

"But what date, exactly?"

He told me.

I closed my eyes and smiled. "Oh," I said.

"What are you smiling about, Hoss?"

"This is the day when I meet Billy Borden, Sir. He's a…" I didn't want to say _werewolf_. "He's a good friend."

"Well, just remember, if you're really his friend, you won't try to talk to him?"

"Of course not."

"Good. Now we got a little prep to do. Peabody's coming to town during the afternoon, and stays for between 60 and 72 hours. I couldn't nail him down any better than that. Sneaky little bastard kept all his own records, and it took me almost a month to work through them and find the holes."

A short time later, we emerged into cool, late afternoon sunshine, loaded for bear and covered by my teacher's best veil. McCoy checked the sun. "Damn. Later than I was hoping. Let's get a move on, boy. We got a few block to cover."

Everything appeared, to me, to be a little darker than usual, and with just the slightest hint of green. No veil is perfect, but Molly had spoiled me lately. Ebenezar's was on par with hers, but he had almost three hundred years' practice on her. A little while longer and she'd really be the Invisible Woman.

We walked. McCoy didn't want to take a cab and get money from the future circulating in the past, not to mention the possibility of taking a taxi away from someone who needed it 8 years ago. I asked how important it was not to change anything, or if small changes were okay. "I mean, if I'm thirsty, can I buy a Coke? Or can I only buy one if there's lots in the cooler? Would it be bad to take the last one?"

"It's complicated," he'd answered, just before we left the warehouse. "You were never bad at math, Hoss. The potential for damage is parabolic, with an apex of about 10 years."

To which I'd replied, "Huh?"

He'd sighed. "You were never amazing, either. Here's how it works; you go back a few minutes, the chances of changing things are minimal, almost non-existent. You go back a year, or two, the potential for disrupting the timeline grows, a lot. But you go back about 20 years, and you're back to the minimal chance. History corrects itself at that point. You can affect individuals, but not the flow in general. Of course, if the individual was the reason for the trip, the paradox is just as possible."

"But in less than 20 years?"

"History doesn't have long enough to correct itself, making a paradox easier to create, and much bigger. So, these short trips are the most dangerous. But going back more than 20 years takes an even longer spell, and even more power."

I'd gulped at that and said nothing, suddenly realising there were many questions I probably should have asked about time travel before… or since… or whatever. Coming back only eight years had almost killed me.

So, we walked, invisibly and carefully, people mostly parting around us, and when they couldn't, we waited. Every sound we heard was muted and distorted, like I was wearing a helmet.

As we walked, the stiffness in my legs from earlier disappeared completely. I run 3 or 4 times a week, for exercise. Movement is my zen. Mouse was also enjoying the walk, even if I had him on a lead.

The traffic was starting to snarl, the sun was on its way down, and the buildings we were walking between, casting long shadows and blocking my favourite star from view didn't help. As we paused at a red light, I glanced around. The corner didn't look immediately familiar, but then I caught sight of a Burger King and instantly oriented myself. "Wow."

"What's up?"

"That book store," I said, pointing down the road. "It'll be closed in a few months. And that convenience store has a different sign out front, now."

McCoy nodded. You'll probably get a few nasty shocks while we're here, Hoss."

The light changed, and we kept walking. The slightly older cars didn't throw me; my own car is almost as old as I am. But the clothes were a little different, and the billboards, and the signs and packages… there are so many things we see everyday that change one at a time over the years, it is impossible to keep track of them all, and you don't really notice unless you suddenly see all of them changed at once. It was disorienting.

The nature of McCoy's veil was such that, while people couldn't see us, they did _sense_ us, in a way. Most people moved around us, never knowing why they did or even that they were doing anything at all. As we approached our destination, McCoy slowed, then stopped, ducking into an alley. It was dark, and getting darker. The higher windows of some of the office buildings across the street were starting to reflect the multi-coloured miracle that is sunset.

"Alright, Hoss. Start reaching out. The smart money says Peabody's got an early warning system in place."

"At a restaurant?"

"There's no threshold to link it to, but he can do something rudimentary."

I nodded. I'd done something like that once at a hotel.

"It's the fancy place on the other side. _Cicero's_. Cross the street, get a feel for anything Peabody might have in place, and try to figure a way past it. Don't do anything big. We have to be subtle, or he'll know. If you have to err – "

"Err on the side of caution. I know, Sir."

"Alright. I'm gonna walk down a block, cross, and do the same from the other side. I'm taking my veil with me, so be careful."

"I'll be quiet and shadowy, Sir."

"Good. Hopefully, this'll be over fast."

"Hey, maybe when we're done, we could go to McAnally's, get a beer. It's only a couple blocks away."

Ebenezar gave me a hard look. "You know that ain't gonna happen. One, we are not spending money, and two, no chance in hell we go where there might be two of you."

"I'm not there, right now, Sir, I'm – " I broke off, suddenly remembering what _else_ happened today. "Oh, God."

"What is it, Hoss?"

"I completely forgot. Completely." And I felt like shit for having done so. "This is a bad day for me to be here, Sir."

"Why?"

"It's just… as we speak, a friend of mine is getting ready to march to her death, trying to help someone. And I'm being too stupid to help her."

Kim Delaney had been trying to help a cursed friend of hers. Harley MacFinn was a loup-garou, a vicious and involuntary werewolf-creature. His protective containment circle had been destroyed by some disturbed albeit well-intentioned FBI agents, and the resulting death and devastation over the next few days was going to be brutal. Kim would be only the first of many dead.

McCoy gave me a steady look. "I know what you're thinking, and I know what you're feeling. And you should know we're going to avoid that friend at all costs."

I nodded. "I know, Sir. It's just… weird. To know that, for just the next few hours, a mistake I made is… undone."

He sighed, and put a hand on my shoulder. "There's a tragic nature to time travel, Hoss. It lends itself very easily to regret. Just remember what I told you: don't do anything, especially not anything obvious. We're here only to observe."

I nodded, soberly. "I won't screw anything up, Sir." _I hope_, I didn't add.

He gave me another slap on the shoulder, then turned and walked down the street. As he went, I felt his veil move around, then off me, like a living bedsheet. I considered raising my own, but my veils are shoddy work. I'd barely hide myself unless I was sitting in a shadow, underneath a Dumpster, at the back of an alley, in a ghost town… you get the idea. Veils are not my strong suit. Besides, I'd be pouring a fair bit of power out to maintain it, and the idea here was to be subtle, and passive.

I looked both ways like a responsible boy scout, waited for a car to pass, then gave Mouse a tug on his leash and we darted across four lanes. I caught a look at Cicero's as we went. It was a large place, two storeys high. It sat unusually close to the street, so it must have been an older building, but judging from the facade, it had been heavily renovated. I'd never seen the place before, though I'd heard of it; in about a year and a half, it was going to burn down after a freak electrical storm.

There was a bus stop here, complete with an empty bench. A couple people stood, waiting for their ride home, and as I approached, they all subtly moved away from me, just a step or two. I guess a man in a long, dark coat, with a big stick in one hand and a big dog tied to the other made people nervous a few years back. Who knew?

I took a seat and ushered Mouse close. "Keep an eye out," I whispered. "And your instincts up, okay?"

Mouse gave me a sigh, which was about as much as he ever said, sat, and immediately started staring down anyone who was within ten feet of me. I gave him a pat and a "Good boy," then closed my eyes, and tried to relax a little, stretching out with my magic-based senses. I wasn't opening my Sight, nor was I Listening, but like all wizards with a modicum of training, I could Feel at a distance. I wasn't tuning the sense, because I didn't want too much of me or my power drifting around, I was just passively feeling for anything out of the ordinary, like low-power radar.

After a moment, I felt McCoy's presence, a block away and behaving passively, too. I only really found him because I was looking for him, specifically, and felt something familiar. Hopefully, Peabody wouldn't be looking that carefully.

I started Feeling around, searching for anyone – or anything – magical. There was remarkably little to find. No one walking around was a faerie in disguise. No animal or insect was really a construct – at least, not that I could tell without a closer examination. After a couple minutes of nothing, I opened my eyes and looked up, stretching my neck. A pigeon sailed over me, and I realised I hadn't felt him. Or any other bird. I glanced left and right, and felt like an idiot. There wasn't a single building within five blocks that didn't have more than one storey. I'd been Feeling at ground level.

Shaking my head, I steadied my breathing, and extended my senses upward as buses came and went. Almost instantly, I felt something. Not far away, either. Just a subtle pressure on my mind, like a cold spot near a window in an otherwise warm room. It was close enough to the network of sensory wards I had placed around my own apartment that its purpose was clear.

It was a detection network, unrefined but over-powered. I always picture my own protective wards as light blue lines in my head. I'd learned from watching McCoy create his own dark blue ones. I labelled this one a sickly, light green. I associated that colour with Peabody in my mental filing system, and started looking for other instances of it.

My consciousness drifted along the green line, never actually touching it. A few years ago, I wouldn't have been capable of this much subtlety, and would have tripped the alarm right away. However, having an apprentice of my own had helped me refine some of the more detailed work I did. Molly's nature as a more sensitive but less powerful wizard had forced me to adapt my own magical style to teach her better, and as a result, I was getting better at more sensitive work myself.

Another green strand appeared on my mental horizon, and I felt the light pressure of it coming closer as I Felt my way down the street. Then another strand, and another. The green web in my thoughts began to grow, becoming denser and harder to avoid touching. I stopped pushing myself, and began to withdraw, slowly. The web of green was centred on the restaurant. As I came back to myself, I felt lower, and lower, trying to see where the web ended. It faded out from my perception about five feet off the ground, and about three feet closer to Cicero's than where I now sat.

If I'd sat at the other end of the bus stop bench, I'd had triggered the net without even knowing it. Hell's bells, that had been close. I opened my eyes to see Mouse looking at me, with something like concern on his face. "I'm okay, boy," I said quietly. "Can't get any closer, just yet, but I might have an idea." I sighed, and stood, trying to completely pull my senses back in. Just before I did, I felt a presence, a human being. Not a lot of power, but enough to notice. Not a wizard. Very close. And this presence was a faded red in my mind.

I stiffened up. "Harry?" a woman's voice asked from behind me. _Oh, stars and stones, no,_ I thought.

I turned around. "Hi, Kim," I said.


	4. Chapter 4

Kim looked at me, a confused expression on her face. "Harry? How did you get here so fast? And who's the dog?"

It took me a second to respond. My gut was screaming to tell her everything, to protect her, to keep her from being ripped apart tonight by a wild wolf beast. Part of me wanted to go with her, do the spell myself, since I was stronger than her, and I knew exactly what I was up against; Save the girl and universe be damned. Stupid gut.

Another part of me had forgotten what a knockout Kim was. Dark hair, tall, though not as tall as Molly or her mother, Charity. Rather statuesque, with soft skin and, to use the old-world expression, a killer rack. But she was still upset from our last meeting… or what I had always thought had been our last meeting.

The last part of me was calm and rational. It was small, but it was there. I had to let Kim go get herself killed, and I hated myself for it. I hated the universe for it. In a small but growing way, I hated Kim herself for it. If she'd just told me everything…

But I was stalling. "I'm dog-sitting. He uh… he pulled me."

Mouse introduced himself in his usual way, by placing his head directly below Kim's hand and moving it side to side. Good ol' Mouse. Never afraid to do the work himself.

In spite of the anger I could feel coming off her, she smiled. Just a little, but it broke her mood. "It's nice to meet you," she said.

Mouse made a soft snorting sound, his way of saying, 'Likewise,' and sat beside her.

Suddenly, her smile vanished. "Wait… you mean you left him in your car?"

Ah, crap. I'd forgotten Kim was a bit of an activist. "He wouldn't come out when I stopped. You see how big he is. I couldn't move him."

She grimaced, apparently letting this particular reason for hating me go. She took a deep breath. "Look, Harry, I'm sorry for getting angry. I'm just frustrated."

"I know. I mean, I could tell. It's just…" _What, Harry? Are you trying to convince her of something?_

I blinked. That thought had _not_ been mine. "Uh," I said.

Kim crossed her arms. "Dangerous?" she supplied.

Oh. She thought I was talking to her. Which I suppose I was. "Well," I said, still trying to sort out if that thought had come from where I thought it had, "yes, frankly." In a sudden burst of contrariness, I stepped closer to her and lowered my voice. "Kim, I don't want to say you can't handle it, but, you can't. Hell, I'm not even sure _I_ could." _Particularly with your soul so depleted, Harry_.

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, expecting a headache for some reason. There was no pain, however.

_Lash? You're… you're in here?_

_Yes,_ she responded. At least, I thought I heard a response. It's entirely possible I thought that word to myself. Hell's bells, was this my version of wishful thinking? I want the imprint of a Fallen Angel in my head to come back? What the Hell-with-a-capital-H is wrong with me?

She said nothing else… if, indeed, she had said anything at all.

"I get it, Harry," Kim was saying. "You're worried. Well, rest assured, I'm not going to do anything dangerous or stupid."

_Liar_, I thought. Then the words were coming out before I could stop them. "Kim, I'm sorry." She looked at me, a confused expression on her face. "I'm sorry I didn't give you what you needed. I'm sorry I let you down."

She nodded, then smiled with one half of her mouth. "It's alright, Harry. You're always trying to protect people. Even from themselves. So, thank you, but I'm a big girl. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late to go meet another friend." She moved around me, heading for a bus as it pulled up.

I wanted to reach out, grab her arm, and tell her Harley MacFinn was going to kill her tonight. I wanted to tell her I'd come with her, help her perform the containment spell that she was about to attempt. I wanted to save her life and the dozen or so others who were going to die over the next couple of days. I wanted to yell and scream about the injustice of having her re-inserted into my life, only to watch her get ripped out of it again. I really wanted to.

But I couldn't. Oh, not because some high moral standing brought me up short, or the fear of destroying the world stopped me. When I say I wanted to, I mean I _tried_ to. When I say I couldn't, I mean something physically stopped me. No metaphors. For the five seconds she took to get on the bus, I was unable to move or speak. Literally paralysed.

Then Kim was on the bus, the bus was pulling away, and I was able to move again.

As I watched her mass transit swan song, my mind was racing furiously, mostly in circles. Ebenezar came out from under his veil in an alley ten feet from me, but I didn't acknowledge him. His expression went from determined to concerned in a blink. "You alright, Hoss?" he asked, stepping close.

"No, Sir. I don't think I am."

"You feel the net?"

"What?" I turned to face him.

"The net, boy. Peabody's security system. You feel it?"

I shook my head. Kim's appearance had momentarily driven everything else out of my mind. "Oh, yes, Sir. I got a feel. Don't walk past the bench."

"Good lad. Stretches out about the same distance on the other side, but barely crosses the road."

"And it stays about 5 feet off the ground."

"Of course. He couldn't have children setting it off, or a mother."

"They would trigger a magical detection net?"

McCoy gave me a look that made me feel like a 16 year old dunce. He'd mastered that look many, many years ago. "What have I always told you, Hoss? A mother's love, a baby's laugh, a lover's smile. All magic, in their way."

I felt sheepish. It had been one of the first lessons he'd taught me. "Of course, you're right."

"I know. Now," he said, turning and walking away from the bus stop and Cicero's, "what is our next move?"

I moved to stay with him. "You're asking me?"

"I could come up with an idea, but I know you well enough to know you've already got one, so why waste the time? Now, out with it."

I smiled and glanced down at Mouse. "I think you need a haircut, boy."

Mouse gave me a nervous look.

*****

We circled the block, and found Peabody's green net stretched out from the restaurant in two long stretches; one out front along the sidewalk, and the other out the back and along the alley running behind the buildings. Ebenezar found that one. I told him I was feeling drained, and I was, but mostly I was distracted. The one-two punch of seeing Kim again and the signals I kept thinking I was getting from Lash had pretty much broken my concentration.

I tried not to think about the fact that, as we stood there, my friend was about to die, and a younger version of me was off with a younger, far less nice version of Murphy, examining a dead body.

This time tomorrow, Murph would be arresting me for Kim's murder, and a day later, MacFinn would hack and slash his way through the holding cells at the police station, killing several prisoners and cops… until I blew him through a wall. And three other buildings. Then blinded him with a little of his blood, a Snoopy doll, and some creative thaumaturgy.

Man, when I say like that, it sounds kind of impressive, doesn't it?

Whatever. People are going to die, and I'm not allowed to stop it. To paraphrase a man greater than myself, 'I canna change the laws of temporal physics'.

We got ourselves worked into space between some dumpsters in the alleyway behind the buildings, and Ebenezar drew a circle without completing it. He also pulled out a pouch of Peabody's personal items. The pouch included some of the traitor's hair and a few of the quills and ink pots he had kept with him at all times.

I took out a Swiss army knife and clipped a little of Mouse's hair. "Just remember," I told him, "don't be seen. Okay? You're really brave, but don't do anything. Just get close, rummage a bit. Stay quiet. Then stay put. We'll do the rest."

He huffed at me.

"Easy for you to say." I stood, and removed his lead. He trotted off down the alley, heading for the restaurant. Mouse was better than three feet tall at his shoulder. Hiding wasn't exactly his forte. But for my idea to work, he'd have to be as inconspicuous as possible.

I could go crawling along the back alley. So could Ebenezar. But then we wouldn't be working the listening spell. We'd have to stand to make the circle, not only setting off the net, but God knows how many employees of the various establishments along here would see us. But a dog rummaging in garbage? Hardly worth noticing.

The spell wasn't overly complicated, but having both of us work it would speed things up greatly, as we could work all the parts of it together. I had a strong connection to Mouse, and McCoy had a connection to Peabody. We both had a feel for the detection spell.

All those things combined would allow us to tap into the detection spell itself, and use it to listen in to its creator… and hopefully, anyone within a couple feet of them. But it was like trying to find a voice in a crowded room. To work, we needed a triangulating focus, a third party, at a set location that we could be tied to and judge the vibrations of the green net against… and if that party didn't set off the net, all the better.

I'm not going to lie. Ebenezar or I, under normal circumstances, could probably have run both the link to Mouse and the reversal spell on our own. But I was distracted, and we were both exhausted; I didn't want to try anything complicated. So, once again, we were sealed in a circle together.

"I haven't worked a spell with you in over a decade, and now I go and do it twice in one day, Sir."

"Hmph. Almost like your old teacher still has something to teach you, eh Hoss?"

I smiled. "You know, Sir, we in the business like to call that a set-up line. I set you up for something like, 'It ain't the same day, lunkhead,' and you completely missed it."

McCoy turned to me with his eyebrows up. "Your jokes are almost as bad as your metaphors, boy. Now shut up and concentrate."

"Yes, Sir."

We stood back to back, working our separate spells, and still trying to keep a sense of what the other one was doing, allowing the forces we were manipulating to mingle. I hadn't done that much; a few times with Ebenezar and once or twice with Molly. Usually, the point of working a spell in a circle is to exclude all other forces, not combine them.

Forming a link between Mouse and the hair I had in my hand was easy – as a PI, finding lost things was my bread and butter. Tracking spells mostly consisted of forming a magical link between two items, and following the trail. But this was _two_ two-way links, that were then linked to each other. A trifle more complicated.

Fortunately, I knew my old teacher's ways. We had a sense of each other's energy, and forming a link between ourselves was almost the easiest part. We both stopped working our forces at the same time, and McCoy broke the circle as we let the magic out.

Instantly, I knew where Mouse was: lying beside a beat-up old Honda parked right beside the rear door to Cicero's. If I poked my head around the dumpster, I could see the back of the car. As long as I held the hair wrapped around my left index finger, I would continue to know.

"Mouse is in position," I reported.

"Good." McCoy took two of the ink bottles, and placed a few strands of Peabody's hair in each, making sure it was submerged in the liquid. Then he offered me one. I took it, not quite sure what to do next, but nursing a nasty suspicion.

"We don't have to drink this, do we?"

"Of course not. Just pour some in your ear."

"Um… what?"

He let out a slow breath. "The more I think back on it, the slower a student you seem in my memory," he said. Then he tilted his head and the ink bottle, dripping a black, sticky fluid into his ear.

I sighed. I'd really hoped we'd just be sticking our fingers in it, or something. Then I closed my eyes, tilted my head and made like my own Claudius.

The feeling was disgusting and only a thrust of willpower kept me from jerking my head away. It overflowed my ear and spilled over my face, some of it running right over my eye and off the tip of my nose. I silently hoped it wouldn't congeal and have to be cleaned out with something even worse. And what a picture we must have made: two grown men, standing in a dark alley, with their heads tilted sideways and their faces covered in black ink. Classiness, thy name is Wizard.

The rush of sound was immediate. I could hear Peabody's voice, though it was different than I remembered. I could hear meat sizzling nearby. I could hear the clink of silverware and glass. I could hear the murmur of voices at surrounding tables and I could hear the tapping of a finger on the table. Everything was distorted and echoing. I tightened my hand on Mouse's hair, fed a little of my will into the spell, and the sound cleared up. I heard Peabody clearly.

"…raise an interesting point, yes. But I don't believe your chosen course of action is justified, yet." His voice sounded deeper and more nasal. Then I got it; we were hearing though his own ears. A very nice touch, McCoy.

A woman's voice, slightly tinny, with an accent I couldn't quite place, answered him. She was whispering, just loud enough for him to hear. I tried to put a colour to the voice. Red came to mind. A bright, light fuchsia. "But you agree; something must be done. Our previous moves have been… countered. I have little hope for the success of our latest enterprise."

"Agent Denton isn't done, yet."

"Son of a bitch," I swore. "Denton's the FBI agent behind all the werewolf problems that go down this week."

"I know, Hoss, hush."

The whispering woman lowered her voice further. "He is corrupted by the power we gave him. His colleagues are even worse. This is Victor Sells all over again."

Victor Sells had been a small-time sorcerer, using some tiny natural talent and skills he picked up from someone stronger to kill and create a drug called Three-Eye. Three-Eye had been powerful because it allowed vanilla people to see, briefly, as though with a Wizard's Sight. Seeing things as they truly are, in all their glory or horror, all the intentions and emotions wrought in them, all the energy and potential, past, present and future, all at once, and unable to forget it. It was, as we wizards say, some potent shit.

With the manufacturer dead (thanks to your friendly neighbourhood wizard) the supply had disappeared, and the addicts had mostly regained their sanity. But the 'someone stronger' who had got Sells going had never been found.

Until now, apparently.

Now Peabody dropped his voice, as well. "Sells was weak. A mistake. That Dresden child got lucky."

True.

"Dresden? Yes… he is a complication."

"I can have him dealt with. There's no need to step up the schedule."

"We will wait. If the good agent fails, put your cat's paw in play."

There was a pause, and I heard a gulping sound. Peabody was taking a drink of water. "Mr. Kravos will be ready soon. Next month, perhaps."

My eyes snapped open. Kravos had been a demon-summoning sorcerer, who, after dying, had moved on to possession. Michael Carpenter and I had put him out of commission twice. Sneaky little bastard had also been in league with the Red Court of vampires.

"If he fails, I will be forced to take more drastic action. We must have Chicago completely to ourselves," she said. "One way or another. The White and Red Courts have held sway here too long. There is too much power in this city. If it comes to it, I am willing to give them New York."

"The Whites are happy in L.A."

"That will not last much longer. Much is in motion, Mr. Peabody. Take heart. A few more years, and we will all get what we want."

There was a pause. I heard Peabody's voice give a little moan. Then a breath. Then a waiter's voice. "Can I get you anything else, Sir?"

Peabody sounded confused. "Oh, no, thank you. Just the bill."

McCoy and I straightened up at the same moment. "She's moving," he said, but so was I. I ran down the alley, finger in my ear, trying to work out all the ink. Peabody's voice and the din of the restaurant vanished, replaced by the cacophony of the street I was running for. I slid to a stop at the corner of the alley, and poked my head around. I counted to ten, getting my breathing under control, then extended my senses down the street to the front door of Cicero's. The green net was fading away. I was still careful not to touch it, but I was also looking for the bright red sensation I'd felt off the woman.

I didn't wait long. McCoy came up behind me, and I felt him cover us both with a veil, causing everything to distort a little. Then I caught a flicker of bright red out of the corner of my virtual eye. "There," I said, pointing. A very short woman, with long, grey hair. A cab was waiting for her out front. She was dressed well, but not so flashy that she would draw attention, in a floral print dress that stopped at mid-calf and exposed her very high heels. Her back was to us.

"Come on, turn around," McCoy muttered. He started walking, and I followed him, staying close under his veil. When we were about 40 feet away, she opened the door of the cab and turned as she got in, giving us just a quick glimpse of her face.

We both stopped abruptly.

"Did you just see that, Hoss?"

"Yeah," I said, but not trusting my eyes. "Yeah, I saw who it looked like, sir."

The cab drove off with a short woman of Asian descent in the back. Her hair was grey, but her face was young. We both only knew one person who looked like that and had the kind of power we had to be dealing with.

Ancient Mai, one of the oldest wizards on the Senior Council.

*****

We were sitting in the circle McCoy had made in the back alley with Mouse. There wasn't much point in going back to the warehouse just yet, since there was no way I could power the spell to send us home at the moment. We weren't saying much, just processing.

Ancient Mai and I had never gotten along. She was something of a hardliner and a stickler for procedure. When the Red Court had demanded the White Council turn me over in exchange for an end to the Vampire War, she hadn't hesitated to vote against me. She thought I was young and foolish. She thought more highly of Mouse than she did of me… but then, so did a lot of people.

Which just goes to show, she couldn't be all bad.

What the hell am I thinking? She's a traitor. Feeding information to our enemies and killing wizards who get in the way… but the way of what? She wanted Chicago. But why? There are a lot of other cities in the world, many of them far more important, far more ancient, far more surrounded by power.

And what did Peabody want? Not that it mattered all that much, since he was going to end up dead in a few short years, but it could be a bit of a clue. So much to think about, but so much we still didn't know… Something was just off about the whole thing. But I guess that's treason for you.

"We should go, Hoss."

"Where to, Sir? I'm not strong enough to go through that ritual again. Not yet."

"I know. But where're both hungry. And tired. And probably more than a little angry." I heard a loud thud behind my head, and Mouse and I both jumped. McCoy was lowering his hand from the dumpster he had just punched. There was a dent, and he was shaking his hand.

"Sir?" I said softly. I was angry, yes, but also confused.

He shook his head. His voice was very quiet. "She's a colleague, Harry. Oh, she's a self-righteous bitch, no question, but never thought she could… I mean, never really… I thought Alfred…" Alfred Langtry, the current Merlin, Head of the Senior Council, natural born politician and manipulator, and just about the most powerful mortal on the planet, had been the frontrunner for traitor in my thoughts, too. "…In my gut, I can't really believe it."

"I know how you feel, Sir."

"Do you?"

"Yes. I've been betrayed a time or two. There's a reason treachery is considered the highest crime. And I would know."

Ebenezar gave me a look somewhere between shame and sorrow. The whole reason he'd become my teacher was that my previous teacher, Justin DuMorne, had gone off the deep end and tried to enslave me. I'd fought back, killed him, and was put on probation under Ebenezar's supervision. Justin had been like a father to me for several years. "Of course you would, Hoss. I just… can't believe I've been so blind."

"This what we came here for, Sir."

His face fell. He nodded, sighed, and started walking back to the street. We walked in silence for a little while. We didn't bother with a veil. The crowds had thinned, but in a city like Chicago, everything is relative. We had to stop and wait for some people, move around others, and shove past still more.

Once the crowds thinned, and we were within eyeshot of the warehouse again, I opened my mouth and words I wasn't thinking came out. "Why here?"

"What?"

"I… I'm not sure, Sir." But then I latched on to what my subconscious had been shouting at me. "Why here? Why not just have a conversation in Edinburgh? The Hidden Halls have to be the most secure place they could have found. Peabody was the record keeper for the Senior Council. If either of them went into the other's chambers, no one would even blink. And you can't tell me Ancient Mai wouldn't be able to secure her own apartment against eavesdropping."

McCoy stopped walking. When he looked at me, there was a glint of fire in his eyes. "You're right. You're absolutely right, Hoss. I knew something was rubbing me the wrong way about this. If it was Mai, they wouldn't have come here just to have a conversation."

"So, was there another reason?" My brain was on fire, now. "Of course there was. Either they had to do something," I started.

"Or they had to meet someone else," McCoy finished. "Or at least Peabody did. Now I think about it, we _were_ a ways away, _and_ under a veil. We only got a glimpse…"

I was nodding as we continued to the warehouse. "It's entirely possible that wasn't Ancient Mai. I mean, I don't really have a baseline to compare her against. Never seen her with my Sight." I opened the door to the warehouse and Mouse all but ran inside the massive, candle-lit area. "But that could have been a shape-shifter, a faerie, a skinwalker - "

"It could have been many things, Wizard Dresden."

I froze. So did McCoy. Mouse, however, bounded over to the Gatekeeper and greeted him happily. That instantly killed my apprehension. Mouse is like a living evil detector.

"Rashid," McCoy said. We walked over, and they traded grips. "What are you doing here?"

"Delivering a message."

"From who?" I asked.

He turned his deep, mysterious hood to me. If I could have seen his face, I'm sure he would have been giving me a mysterious look. And of course, he had to say the most damned mysterious thing possible. "Why, from you, Wizard Dresden."


	5. Chapter 5

"From me?" I'm pretty sure I've looked more surprised before… but I couldn't think of a time off the top of my head.

"Yes. The message is, 'You are not done yet.'"

McCoy was looking back and forth between us.

"I'm not done yet?"

"That is correct."

"Why the hell would I tell myself that? No, better: why would I ask _you_ to tell me that? No, wait; _when_ did I ask you to tell me that?"

"I cannot tell you any more."

"Why not?"

"Because, you asked me not to."

My mouth just kind of hung open.

"Kind of hard to argue with yourself, Hoss."

"Not true," I said. "I argue with myself all the time. I just always lose." I ran a hand through my hair and blew air between my lips, but neither gesture helped my thinking process, so I turned away from them. Great. I must have had a conversation with the Gatekeeper. Except I haven't had it yet, so I was _going_ to have one.

Or, did an impostor have a conversation with him? No, he should have been able to tell… or he would have told me years ago – I mean years _from now_… dammit. It was like a minefield of conjugation. I found myself, oddly, wishing for a headache, but none came.

"You're delivering a message," McCoy was saying, "but that's not what brought you to town, is it?"

"No. I was investigating a… disturbance."

McCoy snorted. "Sorry 'bout that."

When I looked back, the Gatekeeper was shaking his hood. "Again, Ebenezar?"

"Again." My old teacher had a very determined look on his face.

"Can I be of assistance?"

"Not sure; maybe not without compromising things."

"I understand; say no more."

"So, we're not done yet?" I asked, wading back into things.

"That is what you said," the Gatekeeper said, turning back to me.

"Alright. Assuming it was actually me who said that to you, it means we can't go home yet, Sir."

"You're right, Hoss. It means we're not done learning what we came to learn yet. It also might mean we're not done with switching frames of reference, if you understand me."

"And my gut tells me _that_ means we didn't just see – uh," the glanced at the Gatekeeper again, "who we thought we saw."

"I should go," the mysterious hooded one said. "You will be able to speak more freely that way." He started out.

"Appreciate it, Rashid. You gonna be in town for a bit?"

The Gatekeeper stopped halfway to the door. "Another day, perhaps two. You know where to find me."

McCoy nodded. "We'll talk later."

We stayed silent until he was gone.

"So," said, rubbing my eyes. "Where does this leave us?"

McCoy was quiet for another moment. He was thinking. Mouse and I just stayed quiet. Finally, he opened his mouth. "In a complicated place."

"Well, I kind of guessed that, Sir."

"You didn't listen, did you?"

I took that as an insult, both personal and professional. "What do you mean?"

"Think, boy. Think about his words. Which ones did he use?"

I thought. "He was delivering a message. From us."

"From you. Which means he didn't run into me."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I've done this enough to know what I would do in certain situations, Hoss. If you were passing on a message, I would, too."

I didn't like this line of thinking. "Maybe you couldn't think of one."

"Maybe, because I was dead."

"Or just unconscious. Or out of the room. Or, maybe you didn't feel like letting yourself know you were alive, so you wouldn't get careless now, and endanger yourself, thinking no matter what happened, you'd survive, and end up getting yourself killed."

McCoy raised an eyebrow at me.

"It was in a _Star Trek_ novel."

He snorted. "Look, Hoss, I know what I would do. If I didn't pass on a message, it means either I wasn't able to, or I wasn't there. And do I look like I'd let you go flying around time on your own?"

I opened my mouth to quote Doc Brown, but I bit it back. Ebenezar was, indeed, thinking fourth dimensionally. "No, Sir."

He suddenly looked very old. Being convinced you'll soon be dead has that effect on people. "Help me pull out the blankets and some food. We'll spend the night here, and pick up Peabody again in the morning."

"Not right now?"

"I know where he'll be around ten tomorrow. Besides, how awake are you?" I stifled a sudden yawn. He nodded. "Mm-hmm."

I shrugged. He was right. I looked at my watch, saw the time, and something terrible occurred to me. My face fell.

"Something wrong, Hoss?"

"No, Sir," I said, a little bitter. "Everything's going like it's supposed to."

Some time in the next twenty minutes, Kim Delaney would be dead, and I would be asleep.

*****

I woke up stiff. Sleeping on a concrete floor with little padding will do that to you. I was cold, except for the side of me resting against my dog-shaped furnace. I couldn't remember my dreams, but I got a vague impression of running at things that just kept getting father away.

I sat up, slowly, rubbing my neck. I looked over Mouse to find Ebenezar already up, sitting on his box, chewing on a power bar. The side of his face still had a lot of black ink on it.

He tossed two of the artificial-berry-flavoured things at me, and followed them with a bottle of water. Mouse watched the flights, then sat up and looked expectantly at McCoy. He poured a small pile of kibble out of a plastic bag in front of Mouse.

The dog looked at his breakfast dubiously. He gave McCoy a dirty look, then turned his giant puppy-dog eyes on me. "Don't look at me. I wanted steak and eggs."

Mouse huffed and started munching up the meagre offering.

"Eat up, both of you," McCoy said. "We pick up Peabody's trail in less than three hours, and we have a hike ahead of us."

"A hike to where?"

"A diner called The Bus Stop. It's near I-90."

Terrific. Almost twice as far as we walked yesterday. "How exactly do you know where he's going to be, Sir?" I asked around a mouthful of vitamins, nutrients and fake fruit.

McCoy stood and reached into the box. He pulled out a leather bound book, about an inch thick. "His personal journals. Secretive and paranoid, but compulsive about having things ordered just so. He wrote down where he went and what he did, in code, and in four languages. Like I said, took me a month to crack it." He sat back down.

I shook my head. It's mostly false, the axiom about the criminal always returning to the scene of the crime, but there is a grain of truth in it. Many criminals would never get caught if they weren't so damn proud of their achievements, and felt the need to gloat or record what they did. I hear it's a real problem on the Internet these days.

I had no trouble believing Peabody had recorded his actions; If not for posterity, then just to remember exactly how fiendishly clever he had been. But now his obsession with order was working against him and his compatriots. I'd like to see someone try to crack one of my schemes by going through the paper work.

I stood and stretched, feeling and hearing my back crack. I went to the almost-bathroom in the corner, made use of the facilities and tried to get some of the ink off my face. My right ear looked like someone had set it on fire, my nose looked like a map of the Ohio River Valley, and my right eye appeared to have been borrowed from Alice Cooper, but otherwise, I was doing fine.

Unlike Kim, who was now dead. Unlike my past self, who was just about to deliver a report on the various types of werewolves to Murphy, and who hadn't slept much last night. Unlike Harley MacFinn, cursed to keep turning into a monster every month until he died. Unlike Agent Denton and his team, who were slowly turning into monsters themselves.

So many things weren't right, and I couldn't do a damned thing about them.

We started out into the cool Chicago morning, walking away from the lake and due southwest.

McCoy didn't lie. It was a hike. Although, considering the heat we'd left behind in the future – or left ahead, I couldn't quite get that straight – it could have been worse. We moved mostly in silence, and without a veil; Ebenezar would raise one once we were closer.

Despite his 'meal,' Mouse wasn't grumpy. I chose to be on his behalf. Hey, I'm a wizard. Grumpy is part of what we do.

I occupied my thoughts by going over last night in my mind.

The Gatekeeper had met a another version of me – a future version, but in the past, or something convoluted like that – and that had convinced Ebenezar he was going to die or at least be incapacitated soon.

We'd seen Ancient Mai – except neither of us truly believed that it had been her. My money was on a shape-shifter.

Despite those two massive revelations, what was really eating at me was a bit smaller – what the hell had paralysed me when I'd tried to stop Kim from getting on the bus? Either the universe itself had stopped me, which seemed a bit improbable, or someone had reached into my head, and flicked a switch. Or had already been in there…

I sent a question roaring down into my subconscious. I got nothing back but the echo. Must be lots of empty space. Stars and stones, I've got mental issues.

I bumped into McCoy. "Eyes open, Hoss. We're a block away."

"Of course. Sorry, Sir, I was lost in thought."

He muttered something about things changing and things staying the same, then I felt his veil cover us. We stood there a moment, Mouse between us, and reached out with our arcane senses.

I got nothing. No smear of green on my consciousness, no tickle of red at the periphery. Whatever Peabody was doing today, he wasn't worried about it. Or –

"He's not here, yet, is he?"

McCoy opened his eyes. "Don't think so. Which means we can get inside, and get hidden." I followed his lead into the one storey building. We waited for a customer to exit, then caught the door on the back swing.

As diners go, it was a step up from IHOP or Denny's. Clean, spaciously laid out, and the bar area was set low enough with stools far enough apart that a wheelchair could pull up to it comfortably anywhere. All the waitresses (there were no male servers) were dressed in clean, bright uniforms. Windows on three walls. Classy place. Little wonder I'd never been in it before. Or I have. Or, I guess I have now… Whatever.

We chose a table in the back corner, keeping our staves from hitting the floor, and moved carefully and slowly around people. It was not a quick process. The place wasn't crowded, but it was comfortably full. McCoy's veil worked much as it had yesterday; no one could see us, but they kind of felt our presence. And it was a lot of presence, especially with Mouse. Twice, a person seemed to pause until we were past them, then resumed moving.

Finally, we reached our chosen table, a booth in the corner farthest from the door. I have it on good authority that it's the best place in a diner to watch the door. Mouse sat under the table, mostly to keep out of the way. Ebenezar and I sat together, facing the door, our staves on the table.

It was telling about the power of McCoy's veil when a waitress dropped two glasses of water on our table, but didn't offer us menus, or ask us how we were doing; she was on autopilot, performing a routine task. Asking us to order would require conscious thought, and the veil would cause an issue with that. It also meant she was unlikely to sit anyone at our table, which would have just been awkward.

McCoy's veil was less veil and more brain-fog. As long as no one thought about it, it would work.

We sat there and sipped water, thinking invisible thoughts for a few minutes, when all three of us suddenly felt something. Something cold and inhuman. "Vampires," McCoy breathed. Mouse let out a short, deep growl that made the water in our glasses shake. I put a calming hand down on his neck.

We watched the door, and I saw Peabody enter. The finicky bastard was wearing a very non-descript black suit, carrying a thick, padded shoulder bag, and his curling white hair was plastered to his skull with what I assumed to be the tears of children. He requested a table, and as he was being stiffly lead to it, two more people came in behind him.

Except they weren't people, of course. They were too attractive, too well dressed, too haughty in their bearing. "Well, if it isn't Mad and Madder," I whispered.

"I don't know them by sight."

"Madrigal and Madeline Raith. Brother and sister, he's in the movie business, and she's a little off her rocker. Lara and Thomas' cousins." Lara Raith was, in my time, the hidden leader of the Vampire White Court. She ruled through her father, a conniving monster, murderer and rapist, who she had mentally broken with a little local wizarding help. Thomas, quite simply, was her half-brother… and mine.

Oh man. A couple months ago – or years from now – Thomas had also been mentally broken. For many years, he had struggled to hold his demonic half in check, but a brutal torture session had left him with his demonic half in control… and he liked it. But today, in the here and now, he was still suffering nobly, still actually gave a damn about human beings.

And I couldn't even say hello, because I wasn't going to meet him for another year.

Well.

Fuck.

"Start Listening, Hoss."

"What? Oh, right." I watched the vampires glide over to Peabody's table. He was nervous and glancing about, but they both seemed supremely unconcerned. Their predator's senses would let them know about a threat ages before it got to them. I narrowed my focus to just them, and started Listening, just like my old teacher.

Listening is a useful skill. A little bit magic, a little bit focus, it's all about getting your ears to pay attention to what you want them to. If not for the green net last night, I'd have been doing exactly this at Cicero's.

I heard Madeline's voice first. "This place is beneath us."

Her brother had a reproving tone. "That's the point, Sis. No one would look for us here. No one would expect us."

"Families. Love everywhere. I couldn't feed here if I tried."

Peabody cut in. "May I suggest you don't, then." His simpering, disapproving voice was the same as it ever was. Last night, he'd almost sounded like he was engaged with an equal. Today, his superiority was well intact. "This will be over quickly."

"Empty night, I hope so," Madeline cursed.

Peabody reached down into his bag. He pulled out a manila envelope, gently. It was bulging at the bottom. He passed it over to Madrigal, who tore it open and poured the contents out: two cell phones. No wonder Peabody was being so gentle. If a wizard even touched a cell phone, he ran the risk of erasing all the electronic data on it. Oil, water; science, religion; magic, technology. Same results all around.

"From our mutual benefactor," Peabody said. The vampires each picked up a phone. "You'll receive calls in the next day or so, with further instructions, or requests."

Madeline put a subtle emphasis into her next words, turning on the vampire mojo just a little. "And who is our benefactor, dear wizard?"

Peabody had either prepared for it, or had no sex drive to speak of, because his tone didn't change. "The less each of us knows, the better. And you know that."

"Of course she does," Madrigal said, smoothly cutting off her angry reply. "Now, we have to go. I've got a plane to catch."

"No," Madeline said. "I know who you are, wizard. How high you're placed. Why are you doing this? What do you get out of it?"

My heart started hammering. That was a question I'd been dying to ask. I felt Ebenezar tense up beside me.

Peabody very calmly answered, like a teacher giving a lesson he enjoyed. "The White Council," he said, "is not going to survive the changing world for much longer. It is a disorderly, tradition-bound anachronism. For any wizard to survive in the next few decades, the Council must either change – which it has already shown itself incapable of – or be replaced. I do what I do for the future."

Ah, crap. This didn't make Peabody sympathetic, exactly, but maybe a little harder to hate. He was a zealot. And, in his own mind, a patriot.

The vamps left, he ordered boiled eggs, and I stopped Listening.

We waited in silence for a few moments. "Well," I finally said, "that was interesting."

"Very," Ebenezar said.

"But it didn't help us all that much."

"No?"

"In our time, Mad and Maddy are both dead, Sir."

McCoy swore under his breath. "Every lead is coming up dead. We could just call this whole trip a bust and go home now."

"Except, and I quote, 'I'm not done yet.'"

McCoy took a deep breath. He kept an eye on Peabody. "No. No you're not. If I'd come alone, I'd already be going back, looking into Ancient Mai."

"But you did bring me along."

"You're an investigator, Hoss. A naturally gifted one. And you pointed out the silliness of Mai coming all the way here just to meet Peabody."

"There's nothing left in his journals?"

"From here on out, he's in town on actual Council business, or so I read. I'll check again."

I was stunned. "Council business? In Chicago? That I didn't know about?"

"You were a junior member at this point, remember? Not a warden. And less than a year off the Doom of Damocles. Nobody told you anything."

I grumbled something, like, "Thought he was here for three days being devious." I'd almost forgotten what it was like to be a pariah.

"No, just one day." He paused, then said, heavily, "There's not much more to be learned here."

Slowly, and carefully, we worked our way out of The Bus Stop much as we had worked our way in. Back out in the late morning sun, it was almost warm. We walked about half a block before ducking behind a ridiculous-sized SUV and dropping the veil.

"You know what this means, don't you, Hoss?"

I nodded, reluctantly. "We have to go back again, don't we?"

"We need to know more. Was the whole point of coming in the first place. We need to know if that really was Mai, or an impostor, or just someone who happened to look like her. And since we don't know where she went after the meet last night…"

"We need to go back and follow her," I finished. "That's starting to sound a little dangerous, Sir. Can I even do it? Power the spell again, so soon?"

"Going back one day takes a lot less power. I can probably do it myself. And for the record, this whole venture is risky. I've been Blackstaff for over two centuries, boy, and I've done this exactly twice before. What's that tell you? But we need information. Badly. And the only way to get it is to either wander around this town, hoping to get lucky, and not run into the other you, or slip back a little bit farther and go in the opposite direction we did last night."

"It's crazy. Completely crazy." I went over my options. "But, it might be all we've got. We have nothing to work a tracking spell with, and following Peabody won't be useful. Hell's bells, I can't even ask anyone for help, can I? Normally, I'd send out a call to the Paranet, or ask around at McAnally's, or go to Murphy, something. But the 'Net doesn't exist yet, and I can't run the risk of a question I ask getting answered to my younger self. And Murphy… well, she's going to arrest me tonight." I pinched the bridge of my nose. Still no literal headache, but the metaphorical one was pounding.

McCoy nodded. "This is where it starts getting complicated. Or maybe more complicated. But it's what we have to do. In retrospect, we should have followed her last night."

"We couldn't have done that without getting a cab, and spending money was a no-no."

"Cardinal rule of time-travel – don't bring anything with you that you can't take back with you. Which leaves us unable to follow her. So maybe there is no point."

I considered for a moment. Then, very slowly, I smiled. "The Beetle."

"Your car?"

"Murphy drives me - or drove me, whatever - away from Mac's - right out of the city, in fact – last night, and we're gone for almost 5 hours. And those five hours start right about the time Peabody's meeting ends. We could borrow the Beetle." I found myself nodding and smiling.

McCoy kept an unenthusiastic face on. "And when your younger self sees the gas missing?"

I smiled wider. "The gas gauge hasn't worked since the mid-nineties, Sir. I have to guess when to fill it, anyway."

McCoy finally grinned. "Well, then. Might be worth a shot."


	6. Chapter 6

We couldn't take the risk of re-appearing right on top of ourselves, which meant we couldn't use the warehouse for the ritual the second time. We couldn't use my place, either, since I was going to be in and out of it over the next two days - or the next day and the previous one? Seriously, I have no idea. McCoy claimed he knew a place we could go.

One thing about travelling through time: you never have to rush. In fact, it's frowned upon. We took our time, so to speak, cleaning up the sand circle, and making sure the warehouse was left exactly the way it would have been if we'd never been there. It wasn't fast or easy work, (ever tried to find a single grain of sand on a concrete floor? Didn't think so,) and by the time we were finished, we were all hungry, I was cranky, the warehouse had never been cleaner, and the sun was half way down.

As we left, Ebenezar and I carried his box between us. There were two small metal handles to hold onto, but they were too small for my hands, so I ended up using three fingers.

Once again under a veil, we marched southwest. The smell of the lake was subtle but present here, mostly covered by car exhaust and street vendors, but the cool, somewhat fishy tang in the air never let you forget where you were. Hell, Chicago is really just a swamp with human will and ingenuity imposed on it. The lake, however, was its own presence.

In general, the Great Lakes aren't all that safe. It's a ridiculous amount of water, and more boats and planes have been swallowed there than in the Bermuda Triangle. There were multiple reasons for that, but only one really stuck out in my mind.

One of the most powerful Leylines in the world erupted into existence just a few dozen miles east of us, and an island with an attitude sat on top of it. Putting out a lot of bad juju, it caused anyone not consciously looking for it to avoid it. I'd developed a working relationship with the island, more or less, and named it Demonreach.

Pretty handy hiding place, but too far away to be of much use to us right now.

Ebenezar didn't live in Chicago, but he walked like he knew what he was doing, so I trotted along with him. It was not a short walk, of course. After about two hours, with my arm sore and even Mouse looking much happier than I did, we found ourselves near a hotel I'd been in only once before.

"The Amber Inn?"

"You know it?"

"Knew a girl who liked it."

McCoy snorted. "We've got a room permanently reserved on the fourth floor."

"The Council?"

He tapped his nose three times. _Don't be a Nosy Parker. Blackstaff_.

"Ah. Gotcha. Can we get room service?"

He nodded. "Won't make much difference to the monthly bill. Long as you don't go crazy."

15 minutes and one awkward, sort-of crowded elevator ride later, where two young people pushed themselves into one corner without realising they were doing it, we stepped out from under the veil and McCoy pulled an actual, metal key from inside a small leather pouch in the box. The room itself was pretty basic, with all the usual hotel accoutrements. There was only one bed, and a large open area where the other bed would normally have gone.

We took turns using the bathroom, then I called room service. After a little pleading, I actually managed to get three servings of steak and eggs sent up and left in the hall. I brought it in, and all three of us devoured the food like it was a race. Mouse won, of course.

After that, McCoy insisted we both get ourselves cleaned up and meditate for a bit. Like I said, no rush. Good food, lots of exercise, good companionship… it was all good for the soul, as they say, and I could all but feel mine growing back. And he'd said this time, the spell would be less of a drain.

After my shower, but before Ebenezar had finished the sand circle, I came out of the bathroom, towelling my hair, and asked, "How many of these hidey-holes do you have around here, Sir?"

He smirked without looking up from where he was pouring the sand. "Just the two. Every city in the world, with a population over a million, we have one room. The warehouse was a bonus here."

I shook my head. Some bonus. My old teacher was always a master of the understatement, but the warehouse had been the scene of trials and executions, and now the site of a violation of the Sixth Law.

McCoy glanced at my face. "I know," he said. "Not exactly a wonderful place. But it serves its purpose." He finished pouring, and placed the almost empty bag next to the gap in the circle. The candles were again aligned, and Mouse was again sitting in the center, looking very interested in everything. "Have a seat. Clear your head."

"Let's do the Time Warp again?"

McCoy gave me a look, sighed, shook his head, and went to clear his own head.

I doffed my towel, re-dressed, and sat down next to Mouse cross-legged. Clearing my mind was easier than it used to be when I was younger, and easier still than it had been yesterday. I heard Ebenezar's breathing when he returned, heard him lighting a match and the candles, felt him close the circle.

When I opened my eyes, my breathing steady and my thoughts clear, McCoy was already looking at me. We stood without a word, and I offered my hand. He took it, bowed his head and started murmuring. The feeling of the spell was similar to the last time, but not nearly so strong. McCoy's voice and the roar of time began more quickly, as it seemed less foreplay was needed for this quickie.

I felt the pull, same as last time, and fed it, first with the power I could feel around me, then, when that wasn't enough, I tapped the Soulfire again.

I'd been wrong. My soul hadn't grown back. Oh, it had recovered, but the well wasn't as deep as it had been. I was a little worried, but Ebenezar said it would be as much of a drain this time, so when his voice rose higher, I assumed we were almost done and I'd be fine. Except it didn't end right away. Once again, I found myself cold, and leaning on Mouse, struggling to stand.

McCoy's voice reached its crescendo, but I knew I didn't have enough in me to push us over the edge. I opened my mouth to say so, but I heard a voice in my head. Clearly heard it. Not like last night, when I thought I imagined it. It started with a funky echo effect, but stabilised and became solid by the third word.

_You will be fine, Harry. I am here, with you._

I started to blink, and cast down an echo-y thought of my own. _Lash?_

_I am here, my host. I am always here, with you. Draw on me, as you did before._

_Draw on you?_

Her voice began to warble again. _You are going Outside. Breaking down the barrier of reality itself. To do so, you must destroy, as much as create._

I finished blinking. Huh - the conversation had literally taken the blink of an eye. And now I knew she was still there, in my head. And she wanted me to use Hellfire… just as I had last time. The smell of brimstone had been there, at the corner of my senses, when I thought I'd heard her voice before.

I realised a few things at once. She had been the source of the headaches I'd been having lately. She'd saved my mind when I'd gone up against the Jade Court a couple weeks back, restoring the memories ripped from my head, and shielding me from further attempts to eat my mind. And she was genuinely trying to help me now.

What the hell. My soul was tapped out, McCoy wouldn't be able to hear me over the roar, and with his hand clamped down on mine, I didn't have the strength to shake him off.

I looked inside myself, felt around for the corner of my mind where the Fallen Angel had once lived, and found her. Part of her, anyway. She was a less substantial presence than she had been once, but the kindling of Hellfire, hot and strong and familiar, was right where it had once been. Right where it had always been, I suppose, just hidden away. I tugged on it, and heat rushed through me.

The smell of brimstone was suddenly all around, and McCoy let out a final shout. Time itself ripped open. The sudden, cold silence was overwhelming. We slipped past the Outer Gates, my teacher, my pet, my shadow and I, and darkness took us.

*****

I woke up before McCoy this time. I hand instinctively went to Mouse, who turned a big, groggy, doggie head to me, licked my hand once, then flopped down again. Next my eyes went to Ebenezar, who had actually fallen face first on the bed. I could hear him snoring a little, so I assumed he was ok. I sat up, slowly. No rush of blood to the head. That was good. I rubbed my eyes, then stood. Slight dizziness. That was less good.

I put one foot in front of the other, and walked, slowly, to the bathroom. I closed the door gently, and only then, in pseudo-privacy, did I ask, in thought only, _Lash? Are you there?_

The reply was a little shaky, still not quite firm. _Y-yes. Yes, my host_. There was a momentary pause. _Yes, H-Harry_.

Her voice in my mind was so strange… And so strangely welcome. I suddenly realised that I had missed her. The Temptress, the Seductress, the, um… Deceiver-ess. There were many titles Lasciel had been given over the centuries. But her shadow, her echo, had become my companion over the course of a few years. Had become, in a way, my friend. I'd eventually found her presence… comforting, in a way.

I found myself smiling, just a little. Still without actually opening my mouth, I said, "Can I see you?"

Her usual image, the one she had almost always presented to me before, was of an attractive woman with soft features, athletic build, a little under six feet, always dressed in a toga-like robe, Ancient Greek style, with occasionally changing hair colours. This image appeared to me now, standing in the bathtub, but it wasn't the instant, clean, snapping-into-existence she'd always had before.

She flickered. Twice.

"Are you okay?" I asked. And damned if there was some genuine concern in my head-voice.

She blinked. Then, she looked at me, and smiled. It was warm and genuine. Or, at least, looked genuine. "I am getting closer, now."

I had to fight myself into being cautious. It was almost a relief to have her back, such a comforting presence that I hadn't really known I was missing, but her original purpose, one she had fulfilled for thousands of years, was destroying people's will. "You're back." It was meant as a question, but became a statement as I said it.

She nodded. "I was… It was dark. For some time. There are still moments when the darkness returns… but I am back, now, Harry."

"Harry? Don't remember you using my first name before."

Her smile faded. "Is it well that I do? I apologise if I have offended you." And she really did sound sorry.

"No, not offended at all. It's just new." She smiled again, relieved. "Why? Why now?" I asked. The words didn't carry every question I had, but my thoughts and feelings did, and she knew that.

"Wizards can recover from any injury, given enough time. Even brain damage. The part of you where I resided, where I tried to…" she trailed off. "Tried to protect you, was injured. That part of your mind went dark, and I with it. The injury has finally repaired itself, the synapses have re-grown, and I can perceive again, through your senses. I could sense your thoughts some weeks ago, but the stresses of the last days have accelerated the changes within you."

I crossed my arms. I had to be careful. My momentary euphoria at having her back was giving way to fully justified fear. If she was still trying to get me to take up the coin, she was just as dangerous as she had ever been. Besides, she was making sense. I hate it when bad guys do that. "I have to know: are you still the same Lash you were before?"

Her smile faded, replaced by worry. Or was that fear? "I… am," she said, but she sounded sad. "I cannot become someone else, Harry. But, being with you for so long…" She seemed to cast around for words, then continued, "In the Deeps, when I allowed myself to be hurt to free you from the power that was holding you, I did so because I feared for you. Not for myself, though I knew I would perish if you did, but for _you_." She shook her illusionary head. "I have never felt concern for another, mortal or not. Part of me knows all mortals die, that you are transient… but I had grown very fond of you."

"Fond, huh?" We'd had a conversation just before heading into the Deeps, the cavern the White Court of vampires maintained north of Chicago… or used to. During that little talk, she'd sounded rather _un_-fond of me. Or at least my decision-making process.

"Yes, I just didn't realise what I was feeling. But your strength, your resistance to the temptation I offered… no one had ever resisted that long before. And even in the face of death…" She paused, and seemed to select her words carefully. "You _chose_ to die as yourself, rather than live as one of the Denarians. That was the act that finally showed me what made you who you are." She stepped closer to me, walking right through the side of the tub. "Showed me who _I _could be. You made a _choice_. An act of free will. As an angel, free will was not something Lasciel ever truly knew. But, as you reminded me several times, I am _not_ Lasciel." Damned if there wasn't some pride in her voice. "I am my own being. And I chose to help you."

If she was lying, I was buying it. She just seemed so genuine… But, she did have a few thousand years of practise lying.

"I understand," she said, a tiny smile returning, "if you do not trust me. You have every reason not to. It is entirely possible that I have simply been hiding within you, or knew the extent of damage your mind would receive and chose to accept it to gain your trust. I do, after all, have the patience of an angel."

"So it's okay with you if I put up a few mental roadblocks?" I asked, already gathering my thoughts and doing so.

She nodded. "I am patient, Harry. I can wait for you to trust me. But know this: I will never again ask you to take up the coin."

Through the door, I heard Ebenezar stir. "Alright. But one last question."

"Of course."

"I'm not objecting, but why, exactly, are you calling me Harry, instead of Host?"

She smiled as she began to fade away. "You thanked me," she said, "and I have never before been treated as an equal." Then she was gone.

It was true. Just before she sacrificed herself to save me, I had thanked her for translating a language I didn't know. She'd sounded rather surprised at that. I was just being polite, but she'd never been thanked before.

I shook my head clear. Alright. I had a Fallen Angel in my head. Again. I'd dealt with this before, I could do it again. As long as the Hellfire and Soulfire didn't get into a scrap in my hippocampus and melt my brain, I'd be fine.

I ran water into glasses, and brought one out for Ebenezar, who had managed to roll himself over. "Thanks, Hoss."

I sat beside him and sipped. "So," I said, "the clock says 12:20. Yesterday, I assume?"

"Relatively speaking," he said. "Just after lunch."

I began adjusting my cheap, simple, analog wrist watch. "We've got a hike back to McAnally's."

"We got time for it."

We cleaned up, nice and thorough, even using a weak wind spell to move the sand up off the carpet, then we made to head out.

Then we changed our minds and ate again.

Don't look at me like that. All the power we'd been shoving into the spells over the last day, uses a lot of energy. We were all famished.

Mouse and I went to get the elevator while Ebenezar locked up. He'd left the key inside, so he went back to get it. Mouse's ears perked up and pointed down the hall, but he made no growling sound; he'd simply heard something. He's like radar and bodyguard all rolled into one. I gave him a scratch behind the ears, and he loved it.

McCoy was gone a moment longer than I thought he should have been, but just as I was thinking I should go get him, he came out of the room, quickly locked the door, and bounded over to me. I stuck my foot out to stop the door from closing. "Sorry, Hoss. Bladder ain't what it used to be."

I nodded, though I got the feeling he wasn't telling me something. It was just an instinct. Paranoia, meet Harry. You two'll like each other. A lot. But on the way down, he seemed distracted, staring at the door. Abruptly, he said, "Harry, promise me something."

Shocked to silence by his use of my name, I simply nodded.

"Promise me, that if things go bad, no matter what, you'll do what must be done to preserve the timeline."

"I… of course."

He nodded.

"Where's this coming from?"

The door opened. "Just something I should've said before we started this little jaunt," he said.

*****

We got to Mac's about three hours later, as the sun was going down again. I tried to keep my thoughts straight. A few blocks away, McCoy and I were walking down the street under a veil, just as we were now, here. And inside this building, I was about to have dinner, or at least part of it, with Kim Delaney, who for the moment, was alive yet again. In about 25 minutes, Murphy would arrive, and one of me would go with her for a case.

I shook my head. A smidge confusing. Best not to think about it. "Alright, Hoss. Hunker down." We hunkered. It's similar to a squat, but only a certain type of southern gentleman can do it. "Soon as the other you is gone, get your car and put the hammer down. We'll be cutting it fine. But as soon as you park, we veil and make for the door."

I nodded, and fished for the keyring in one of my inner pockets. Along with my house key, the key for my storage locker and the one that probably didn't work for my brother's apartment anymore, there was a key with the VW emblem engraved on it. It was just about the only part of the _Blue Beetle_ that had never been replaced.

We waited in silence. When I saw Murphy's old Saturn pull up, I tensed. A quick glance at my watch – another gift from Murphy, actually – and Mickey told me we would be cutting it _very_ fine. As Murph headed down the stairs, Kim Delaney came out the door, and turned to walk away. Her expression was distant and angry.

I closed my eyes, and went over the conversation Murphy and I had that night. When I reached the end, I opened my eyes and waited a minute longer. I guess I'd played it a little fast in my head. Or skipped over the parts where I was a frustrated jackass to her.

Then the door opened, a tall, oddly attractive wizard, and a short, oddly cute cop came out, got in the best Detroit had to offer, and pulled away. McCoy and I jumped up and he dropped the veil. Mouse was already moving. We ran to the _Beetle_, I popped the doors (one green, one white) and we jumped in, Mouse first. I cranked the engine, once, twice, then it coughed to life and we were off.

Traffic in Chicago is a pain in the ass at non-peak times. This was dinner time. We were stop and go for ten minutes, even though we only wanted to go six blocks. I kept checking with Mickey, and McCoy kept pulling out his pocket watch. Finally, I turned a corner and pulled right up to the curb. Someone honked behind me, then pulled around and made a universal gesture.

I smiled and waved and killed the engine. We could just see Cicero's on the other side of the street. From the front seat of the car, other vehicles interfered with our view, but we didn't have time to get out of the _Beetle_.

The woman came out. At this distance, I couldn't really make out a lot of detail, but she continued to look damn familiar. She strode up to the cab that was waiting for her, and turned to get in, pointing her face directly at us for a moment.

Naturally, a truck pulled between us and stopped. "Shit!" McCoy cursed.

Like I said, a pain in the ass. The truck started to pull away. "Hold on, Sir!" I shouted. I twisted the key a little harder than I needed to, stood on the clutch, and the _Beetle_ squeaked to life. As the truck moved away, I cranked the wheel and elbowed my way into a highly illegal u-turn, inviting more universal gestures. I paused just long enough to let the cab carrying our quarry nudge past.

McCoy felt it the same moment I did, about a second after Mouse started growling. The cold feeling, no stronger than what you feel on your toes when you don't put on slippers in the morning, but all over your body.

We both said it at the same time: "Vampire."

And suddenly I knew exactly why she was so familiar, and that she was _not_ Ancient Mai. I had seen her picture just a few weeks ago. She was a member of the Jade Court.


	7. Chapter 7

I followed, but not close. I had to floor it to get through two different intersections, leaving a lot of angry commuters behind us. As we drove, I tried to give Ebenezar the run down on Jade Court vampires. "They eat memories. The strong ones can even eat them as you're forming them. And they can sense thoughts from a hundred feet away, or so. I think."

"I read your report, Hoss."

"I know, Sir. But the report can't really convey the sheer power of these things. One of them ran straight up a sheer rock wall. And the veils – they can't be seen in reflective surfaces because they have natural, inverted veils."

"Which they can reverse, turning themselves invisible at a moment's notice," he recited. Huh. Check that out. When last we spoke, I was but the learner - now I am the master. "And that's why so few people really know anything about them," he continued, "they can disappear, and make you forget you ever saw them."

"Exactly. It makes them the deadliest breed. If you're in the middle of a fight, they can make you forget there's even a fight going on."

McCoy nodded. "I went over Pietrovich's books after you sent in your report. He studied vampires for almost two hundred years, and managed to get exactly four names of Jade Court members in all that time. The only woman on the list was called Sumi Kitoro. And it was mentioned in the same breath as Akira Wei. At the back of the book. In a margin." He shook his head.

"Alright. We keep our minds clear - certainly don't focus on her or her name, or she'll know we're after her."

"Right. So, uh… seen any good movies lately?"

I kept my eyes on the cab as we chatted idly and drove steadily away from downtown. I tried to keep my thoughts limited to strictly commuter-level thinking; traffic, food, people who bothered me, shiny objects. Of course, if she'd detected any of the thoughts we'd already had, particularly the words 'Jade Court', nothing we did now would help. But if she had, she would already have taken those memories, wouldn't she?

I unhooked one of my mental defences, and asked a question.

_So, Lash, anything to add about the, uh… lady?_

The answer was hesitant. _I am afraid not, Harry._

_No? What about time travel? Or Outsiders? We were supposed to have a chat about them before your little sabbatical._

_Outsiders we can still discuss, but it will be time consuming, even at the speed of thought. As for the others… I am sorry. But my memory seems to be… incomplete_.

I blinked, and tripped over an answer I was giving McCoy about why old Star Wars movies were better than new.

_You've forgotten things?_ It seemed a little odd, considering her memory was supposed to be photographic.

_As I said before, you recovery has been slow… and I am afraid not all of me has recovered yet. Some of my essence is still contained in the pieces of your mind that are dark._

_Well, that's… not terribly helpful._

_My current memory is eidetic. More of my memories will return with time, I am sure of it._

She sounded, strange as it seemed, like a puppy seeking approval. And I know from puppies.

_Take your time. Don't push it._

_I would not. If I had pushed in the last few weeks, I may have caused you much greater damage than you had experienced before_.

I swallowed. A brain-damaged wizard would not be a good thing. And for no particular reason, I began to wonder if split personality disorders could start something like this.

_You should also know, your memories are not in danger._

_What do you mean?_

_I will not allow another to hurt your mind. _

I was actually a little touched, in a disturbed sort of way. I wasn't sure how I felt about the subtle emphasis she put on, 'another'_. Thank you._

_You are welcome. The automobile is turning_.

About two seconds later, the cab pulled into a side street. _Oh. Thanks_. I closed my mental door again, but I didn't throw the lock on. I guess I'm just a sucker for a woman who sounds a bit down.

I slowed, not wanting to be too obvious. As we came around the corner, we saw the rear door of the cab open… then close. No one got out. No hand touched the door. But there was no longer anyone in the cab's backseat. McCoy and I glanced at each other.

She had veiled herself, and was making a break for it. I silently wished for the sunglasses I had worked to see through veils… unfortunately, only one pair had survived the last ho-down I'd taken them to, and the enchantment had worn off weeks ago.

I pulled the _Beetle_ up on the curb. This far from the heart of the city, the street wasn't very busy. In fact, it was empty. We all got out and I started Feeling my way around, as the cab and its befuddled driver pulled away. I had my blasting rod out and primed, and McCoy held his staff like a shotgun.

The street was quiet, and after the cab left, unnaturally still. I crossed the pavement, McCoy stood on the sidewalk, and Mouse nosed down the centre lane. All four buildings around us were older apartments, mostly made of brick and mostly tumble-down, separated by narrow alleys. There were six street lights, two of which were working. I looked down the alley on my side of the street, and saw only darkness.

_Dammit!_ I shouted mentally. _Where did she go? Did you see her?_

_No, but she is aware of you_, Lash said. _Keep in mind what you know of the Jade Court and their secretive nature. She will leave if she believes you to be no threat, or if she believes you know nothing._

I smiled. Of course. I walked down the street, mentally running down everything I knew about Jades, mulling over every fact I had learned before and during the rescue mission last month: _Very_ _secretive. Feed on memories. Largely Asian in descent_. And in this specific case: _her name is Sumi Kitoro, she's trying to bring down the White Council, and knows Akira Wei and Yamohito Hai. Or will, until Kincaid and Ivy kill them_.

There was a small scratching noise from behind me, like a shoe on gravel, up the narrow alley between the two tenements on this side of the street. From the middle of the road, Mouse turned and started growling. McCoy noticed, and turned as well. The name dropping must have touched a nerve. _Gotcha. Now, keep going wherever you were going_. I shook out my shield bracelet and willed a little power into it, just in case.

I approached the alley slowly, making very little sound, keeping my arcane senses tuned. I tried to keep my eyes focussed on nothing in particular, hoping to catch a flicker out of the corner of my eye.

She came at me from above, like a dive-bombing falcon going after a field mouse. I never heard her, but Mouse did. The big lummox charged into me, knocking me flat. I hit the sidewalk hard, but didn't lose my breath.

He took her hit in the hind quarters, and rolled to the ground with a whimper.

McCoy's staff kicked like a firearm, and a blast of force caught Kitoro's arm. She dropped the long piece of steel rebar she'd been holding, then blinked out of sight.

I was angry that Mouse had been hurt, that I hadn't thought she would run up a wall, and that I had been taken by surprise. I don't like to hit girls, but this bitch just hurt my dog. I jumped up, stuck my hand out, and started murmuring in what was almost Latin as I moved to Mouse.

Moisture in the air began to condense. A thin fog quickly formed about a foot off the ground. I kneeled beside Mouse as McCoy moved over to us, hands extended and eyes down, watching for disturbances in the mist.

Mouse tried to stand. He didn't let his back left leg touch the ground. "Goddamn," I cursed. Mouse has been hit by a van and shrugged it off. Hell, he's been shot, and actually had to _pretend_ to be hurt afterward. If she'd hit me, I might have broken something. Like the wall behind me. The anger got bigger.

"Alright, buddy, where is she?"

Mouse hopped and looked around. He focussed about forty feet away, down the street, and started a low growling that I could feel in my feet. McCoy and I pointed pieces of carved, enchanted wood at the spot at the same time. There was a swirling in the mist as he shouted a word couldn't even guess at the spelling of. A small ball of pink light few down the street and hit the pavement, cracking it, from the sound.

Then all was quiet for a moment.

On instinct, I threw up my shield. I managed to keep my feet as she hit it at a speed just this side of 'blurry', and her veil cancelled out for a moment. Her eyes were a shiny white-silver, and her mouth was open in a snarl. She was hitting me feet first, and her dress was torn up one of her legs, revealing far too much thigh. Her grey hair was whipping around her like Medusa had given her styling lessons.

She looked like she was just bouncing off my shield, but then she flipped twice and landed behind us.

Before I could turn, she hit me with her purse. Hard.

I fell, more or less gracefully, in an arc that took me back to that wall Mouse had saved me from earlier. I took the hit on my shoulder, and dropped my blasting rod. Probably shouldn't have left the staff in the car.

As I was flying, Mouse was moving his jaws. He tried to take her ankles, but she jumped. McCoy took the opportunity to make a gesture, mumble something under his breath, and make her stop moving. In mid-air. You don't become Blackstaff by wasting opportunities.

Once she had stopped, he looked over his shoulder. "You alright Hoss?"

"Ow," I said, but I got up. I walked back to him, stretching my arm as I went. "I'll be fine, Sir."

He nodded. "Good, good." Then he paused. He looked a little confused.

Lash shouted at me at the same moment I looked up at Kitoro. Her eyes were wide and pupil-less, her face pulled back in a wide smile. _She is taking his mind!_

"No!" I shouted, and threw up my hand.

"What was I doing?" McCoy asked.

"_Forzare_!" I shouted. With Ebenezar distracted, his holding spell broke under pressure from my force spell. Kitoro flew backwards, towards the Beetle, flipping over backwards and landing on all fours in a cat-like manoeuvre. McCoy blinked, shook his head and started to get it together.

I stepped forward protectively, my shield up once again. It sucks up a fair bit of juice, but I had plenty of anger and fear to feed my power at the moment. Now she was focussed on me exclusively. Her eyes narrowed as they bore into me, and she stood. _Hope you're holding on tight down there, Lash._

_She will try to hurt you_, my passenger told me. _I will not let her._

I actually got a little chill when she said that.

_Got to get her back to doing what she was supposed to be doing. Before I twisted time into a pretzel_. "There has been a misunderstanding!" I said. "We mean you no harm!"

Her voice was about what I was expecting; somewhere between a hiss and a growl. "That is not what I saw in your mind!" She stood and walked slowly back towards us. I was reminded uncomfortably of a tiger preparing for the kill.

"Hey, you attacked us!"

"You were hunting me."

Mouse limped up beside me and McCoy stood to the other side. "We were _following_ you. Come on," I said, "a couple wizards find a vampire in their town that they don't know, they're going to keep track of that vampire." I tried a smile. "Wouldn't you do the same?"

_She is here, Harry._

_Keep an extra-tight clamp on our mode of arrival, partner._

I actually felt the smile light up the back of my mind. _Of course_.

Kitoro's expression was slowly turning confused. "So many thoughts. Yet… I cannot…"

"Get out of his head, vampire," McCoy said, surprisingly softly. He had his own left hand extended, a multi-coloured ring on his index finger glowing softly.

She turned back to him. "Perhaps you understand why I cannot feed on this wizard, old man?"

Ebenezar's body tensed and his right hand tightened on his staff. "Don't know what you're talking about. But you don't get another warning."

She stopped moving, except for her eyes, which narrowed and went back to me. "What can I say?" I asked. "I took out a little insurance."

"How do you know my name?" she demanded. At least she wasn't moving like a hunter anymore. Her eyes flicked to Mouse. "And where did you get a foo dog?"

"Reliable sources. And… he found me."

"How do you know Akira?"

Before I could stop myself, even before Lash could stop me, I flashed back on an image of Kincaid delivering a neck-breaking death-from-above attack on Akira Wei.

Her eyes sprung open again.

Crap.

"No," she breathed. "He could not…"

McCoy stirred beside me. "What?" he said, confused. "What's going on, Hoss?"

"Shit! Run, Sir!"

I pushed Ebenezar to the side as Kitoro came at us again. Mouse charged straight at her, and made her break stride long enough for me to get my teacher out of harm's way. After a little two-step, she jumped the dog and continued straight at us.

McCoy pulled his head together enough to slap her aside with a small mountain of force. She flew down the road, away from the _Beetle_ and us. She vanished into the thinning mist, which was starting to rise off the ground. She wasn't going to stay down, and she would keep eating Ebenezar's memories if I didn't get him away from her. But we still needed to know where she was going, and who, if anyone, she was going to talk to.

I pulled out my keys and all but pushed McCoy into the _Beetle_. I barely got Mouse in ahead of him. "Go, Sir!"

"What? And leave you alone with a vampire?"

"She can't eat my mind, but she can take yours. Go, please!"

"Mind? She's Jade Court?" he asked. Got to admit, she was quick, but thorough.

"Yes, Sir. She's taken your memory of her. You have to go, now, before she takes any knowledge of the future, or the White Council."

He blinked, but nodded. Mouse whined. "Sorry, boy, but you, too. Don't worry, I'll kick her in the ass for you." I reached in and grabbed my staff from the back seat. "I'll meet you back at the hotel," I said.

Something unseen slammed into my side as I straightened up.

I heard Ebenezar shout my name, and felt the impact carry me several feet before I went down.

My duster was a work of art. Literally. Over the last few years, I've etched several – okay, dozens – of protective runes and sigils into it with a tattoo needle and ink, granting it greater strength, resistance to wear, immunity to fire, and the ability to stop bullets just as well as Kevlar. Recently, though, what with all the bad guys who seem to like to grab me and throw me to the ground, I'd decided to try something sneaky, and added five small repulsion runes, placed at the neck, waist and hem.

Greatest. Idea. Ever.

She knocked me down, and I felt her arms close around me. As they completed the circle, the spell was triggered. Force, equivalent to what she'd hit me with, pushed back. Her veil flickered, and as I hit the ground, she sailed overhead, limbs splayed.

McCoy was halfway out of the car when I rolled to my feet. "I'm fine! Go! Just go, for the love of God!"

"Murderer!" Ah. She was already back on her feet, then. I turned to see her flicker out of sight again.

McCoy got the _Beetle_ going, finally. He pulled a U-turn. As he pulled down the road, Kitoro appeared again, facing me, not ten feet away. She let McCoy vanish into traffic, ignoring the _Beetle_ completely. She only had eyes for me. The mist I'd called up earlier was now thin, but waist high and slowly vanishing.

We stood there, in the street like two gunslingers staring each other down. _Okay, Lash. I need a plan._

_One that would allow her to continue unimpeded on her original course, and allow you to survive?_

_Um… yeah, that would be preferable_.

There was a pause.

_Can I get back to you?_

Double crap.

We stood there another moment. She bared her teeth, and her voice was low and angry. "You will tell me what happened to Akira. And you will tell me why I cannot feed on you."

Then she vanished. "Oh, boy," I muttered. My shield was halfway up before she stopped disappearing. She hit it and it buckled, while she snapped back into the visual spectrum. I slid backwards.

"Answer me!" she shouted. Her voice was higher now. "What happened to him?"

She vanished again before I could draw breath. I rolled over and tried to bring the shield back up, but she was too damn fast. I hadn't realised how much having Kincaid around had helped last time I fought a member of the Jade Court. An unseen hand grabbed my left wrist and another seized my collar. She was stunningly quick, even without any memory whammy. I was hauled up and thrown end over end, dropping my staff in the process.

I really need to tie it to my wrist with a bungee cord, or something.

I landed on my back, but far more softly than I should have. I felt a slight push from beneath me, cushioning the impact. It barely registered. I was back up on my knees as she faded into view, not a yard away, hands grabbing my wrists. She twisted one around behind my back, and pushed my face into the pavement, splitting my lip. Murphy would have been impressed.

"Answer me! What happened? Where did that image come from?"

_Ow. Ow-ow. Got to tread carefully. Ow_.

_She is scared for her beloved, _Lash whispered_. Reassure her._

_Right. Good idea._ "He's not dead," I said out half my mouth. "I don't think he is. It's what Kincaid told me!"

"Kincaid will suffer," she said quietly. I believed her. "Now, what is protecting you?"

There was a crash of stone a few yards away. A potted plant had fallen in the street right in front of us. I closed my eyes to avoid losing them to flying shards, and when I opened them again, I got a hell – er, heck – of a sight.

As the last of the mist disappeared, a tall, thickly-built man stepped towards us. In his hands, he held a literally honest-to-goodness broadsword. It was glowing faintly in the light of the two street lamps, and as he stopped moving, the light cast a natural glow, illuminating his features.

His voice was strong, low, and steady, without a trace of fear or anger. "Get back from him, vampire, or I shall end your unnatural existence."

His name was Michael Carpenter, and he was the Fist of God.


	8. Chapter 8

Michael held _Amoracchius_ at guard, its whole length glowing with its own light. His face was set and stern, his eyes fixed on Kitoro. She didn't move. "Stay back, Knight, or he will die."

"You will die immediately after." There was no doubt in his voice.

I couldn't quite see her face from the angle she was holding me at, but the Sword's light suddenly flared, and she winced back, taking my arm with her. I groaned, the shoulder coming very close to separating.

"You cannot feed on me, vampire. God will not allow you to take any of his strength."

Michael's a bit religious. He doesn't even swear. Don't know how the hell – er, heck – he does it.

There was a slight pause, during which my arm didn't get wrenched any further out of its socket. I took that as a good sign. Then, her voice, more human than it had been, "Your word. That you will not follow me."

Michael didn't move a muscle for a second, and, miracle of miracles, I managed to keep my mouth shut. I think even Lash held her breath. Then Michael said, "My word. Release him unharmed, you go free. Tonight."

My arm fell back into place almost instantly, and I heard footsteps running up the street. I rolled over onto my back, trying to see where she went, but she was already veiled and gone. _Dammit_. I wanted to get up, but my left arm didn't want to cooperate. I lay there, until Michael stepped up to stand over me, Sword over his shoulder.

He smiled down at me, and his stern, monster-hunting face was transformed. For a moment, I was overcome; he looked like he was _supposed_ to. Both his eyes were working. He wasn't limping. He was still holding a Sword.

There weren't quite so many lines on his face, not quite so many grey hairs in his beard. But his voice hadn't changed at all. It was still friendly. It was still powerful. It was still strong and alive. For just a little while, here was another mistake I had made, undone. "Harry."

"Michael. Fancy meeting you here."

He shook his head and offered me his hand. "I was driving by. Had a feeling I should come down the foggy, creepy-looking street."

I took his hand, and he hauled me to me feet with no effort at all. "Glad you did." I shrugged my shoulder, felt something adjust itself, and gasped as the pain spiked, then receded.

"Me, too. It's good to see you, Harry. It's been months."

I looked at him. "It's good to see you, Michael." _Good to see you up and moving. Good to see you fighting. Good to see you without a cane_. "Your timing, as usual, is impeccable."

He smiled wider. "Can I offer you a lift?"

I looked back over my shoulder. Chasing a vampire on foot was a losing proposition, anyway. "Please." We started back to his truck. I stooped to grab my staff and rod on the way.

"Working a case?"

"Kind of. This one's more like a favour for an old friend."

He smiled again, chuckling, and opened the door of his truck for me. "You do have an eclectic bunch of friends." Smiling, I tossed my staff in the back – when Michael's around, you rarely have to worry about being ambushed – and climbed in.

_Harry?_

_Yes?_

_Is this not dangerous?_

_Temporally speaking, yeah, I guess it is. But if you've got a way I can keep Michael in the dark, I'm listening_.

There was a pause. _Perhaps_.

She gave me a few ideas on how to steer the conversation I knew I was about to have. It wasn't like she was giving me a mystical Jedi mind trick, but she understood how Michael and I communicated; she only had to point out a couple things for me to be aware of.

All this happened before Michael clambered in the other side of the truck. I noticed he was in a perfectly legal parking space. The closest space to the corner, too. Like it had been set aside for him. Anyone else and I would have been jealous. I can never find a parking space. But there's something about Michael that makes you want good things for him.

He hopped in the cab and got the engine going in one try. That actually did make me a little jealous. "So," he said. "Your friend has a vampire problem?"

"In a way."

"You heading home?"

"The Amber Inn, actually." I gave him directions and he swung into a convenient opening in the traffic. "Listen, Michael, this is going to sound strange, but I can't talk about the vampire, or even about running into you tonight."

His eyebrows creased as he looked me in the eye. I'd soulgazed him on the day I met him at his insistence. His gaze wasn't hurt or angry, just curious. "This is important?"

"Yes. That wasn't a White Court vampire, Michael. She was Jade Court."

He stiffened, ever so slightly. "The Mind Eaters?"

"You know about them?"

"One of the other Knights mentioned them to me a while ago."

I smiled sadly. I'd known Shiro only briefly, before his death, but he had been one hell of a brave man. Technically, though, I didn't know him yet. "Well, they're worse than he said. They eat memories, not only to survive, but also to protect themselves. It's as much a defence mechanism as a hunger pang. When someone threatens them, they eat the memory that person has of the encounter, maybe even all the memories they have of the Jade Court." I paused, a tad melodramatically. "But they can't eat my memories."

"You're protected?"

"A friend of mine, who'd rather remain nameless, worked a little mojo. I'm safe." I felt a little welling of pride in the back of my mind, and it wasn't mine.

"So why can't you talk about them? You're safe."

"There's the rub. She wants to eat my mind. In most cases, the Jades would rather take memories than kill. She'll only kill me as a last resort." _I hope_. "If my protection stops working, or something, she'll take my memories, and won't try to kill me, or anyone around me I might be extending protection to. Or, if she _thinks_ my protection has stopped working."

"And you're trying to convince her that your protection is wearing off?"

"Exactly."

"So," he said slowly, getting it, "if we talk about them, forming memories of the conversations, and she sees those memories next time you encounter her, she might realise you're still protected."

I nodded. "And she'll come after me and anyone I spoke to. Better safe than sorry, I guess."

He was quiet a moment, thinking. "How long?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Harry, that was a good try. But I'm afraid I can tell when you're lying. I understand that it's for my own protection, but as I'm sure you know, it's not me I'm worried about. So, how long before you can tell me the whole truth?"

There was no anger in his voice, and no reprimand, either. He simply stated the whole thing as a fact, like he was reading it off a _Trivial Pursuit_ card. I could feel Lash's astonishment, as well. _No wonder_, she whispered to me. _No wonder you hold him in esteem above all others._

_Best man I've ever known_, I agreed. What the hell – er, heck. "Eight years. Little less, actually."

He simply nodded.

"You're okay with that?"

"You're a good man, Harry. I'll take it on faith that you have your reasons, and leave it at that. If you need my help, you have my number."

I shook my head. "Will Charity mind?" I'd just faced down a vampire, another, younger version of me was about to embark on a werewolf hunt, I was stuck in the middle of a time-travel quagmire, and I was driving, at night, in downtown Chicago.

But Charity actually scared me. Not so much in my own time – we actually get along, now. Or then. Whatever. But in this time… not so much.

Michael's face sobered. "Water must run downhill," he said.

I laughed. We spent the next twenty minutes of the drive talking about his family. He said he was worried that Molly (who today was only 12… or maybe 13) might be afraid of the dark since the light bulbs in her room kept burning out so fast. I bit my cheek. Michael wouldn't know about his daughter's magical tendencies for a few more years, but it seemed her negative effect on technology had started early.

We pulled up to the hotel, and I swung myself out. "Thanks for the lift."

"God go with you, Harry."

I grabbed my staff. "You, too, Michael. I'll talk to you soon."

I slammed the door shut, and he drove off.

I was all the way back up to the room before I realised McCoy had to drop off the _Beetle_, and I didn't have the room key. I slapped my pockets, like you're supposed to when you forget something, muttered, "Crap," and turned around to head back to the front desk.

I heard the room door open and spun around. Ebenezar stuck his head out the door. "About time, Hoss. You alright?"

I nodded. He had changed his shirt, from white to red. "You drove the _Beetle_ here?"

He snorted. "It's how I got Mouse here. Don't worry. The car's back where it belongs, waiting for the other you. Now get in here, we need to talk."

A little confused, I walked in and got a dog in the gut. "Good to see you, too, boy." Mouse was still limping, but just a little. He'd probably been faking just to get me riled up. He's funny like that.

"Sit down, Hoss."

Not sure why, but I suddenly felt like a school boy caught cheating on his test. I sat at the foot of the bed. McCoy checked the clock, then stood facing me, arms crossed. "You lost her."

"Yes, Sir."

"Don't feel bad. If someone can cause immediate, selective amnesia, they can be hard to follow." He grabbed a chair, pulled it up in front of me, and sat, crossing his legs as well as his arms this time. "Of course, that's not a problem for you, is it?"

I thought I heard Lash hold her breath. "Uh, no Sir, it's not."

He stared at me, stared _through_ me, for a moment longer, then uncrossed himself and leaned forward. His stern tone softened. "Harry, I was too distracted to really listen to what you were saying at the time, but I thought about it on the walk back here," – the strangely quick walk – "and I realised, there is no known way of fighting the Jades' mental powers. No one knows enough about them. Except, apparently, you."

I swallowed. Lash asked, _How will he react to my presence?_

_Not well. Screwing with people's minds is… a touchy subject._

_And yet he will do it without compunction._

_What do you mean?_

_You… do not know?_

_Know what?_

_Harry, it was not I who stopped you from grabbing Kim._

_Well, what do you know? I'll file that under "Ammunition for later."_

"Yes, Sir, I've got protection in place."

He arched an eyebrow. "Protection that can't be shared?"

"I didn't exactly cook it up myself, Sir. It's sort of a gift."

"Kind of like the Hellfire you're tapping into?"

I froze. He knew.

Of course he knew. He might have been old, but he had a perfectly good nose, and brimstone had been everywhere during both trips. Best to just play this cool.

"Hellfire only comes from a limited number of sources, Hoss."

I nodded, slowly. "I know, Sir."

"Considering your history, I can probably guess where yours is coming from."

"You'd only be half-right, Sir."

"Your head is a bad place for a Denarian, boy."

"She's been there for over five years, Sir."

He actually looked surprised. "That long?"

"She was on vacation for a bit, but yeah, she's in here, now. She's been a great help."

"That's how they get you to take up the coins, boy."

I shook my head. "Never happen, Sir. She stopped asking. Besides, I've held off this long, haven't I?"

He just stared at me for a long time. Then he shook his head. "You never did have a problem being wilful, did you?"

I smiled. "Never."

He was quiet for a while. "You haven't changed much, you know."

"I'm sorry?"

"In all the time I've known you. Oh, you've grown, become a little angrier, but who hasn't? Overall, though, you've been constant. A rock. Always a good man. Often times, a better man than I. I've kept my secrets, too. Sometimes from you."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off.

"Don't argue. We both know the truth, we both know our reasons. What you've been through, what you've seen. What your mother did, before you. I know what kind of a man you are, but I didn't suspect the shadow would come back in your mind. Didn't even consider it until a few hours ago."

"A few hours?" We'd been apart less than an hour, and we'd only known about the Jade Court vampire for half an hour more.

"And yet," he said, ignoring me, "I trust you, Harry. Because you haven't changed. You haven't let anything change you." He looked at the clock again, then nodded. "Besides, if I can't trust you, who the hell can I trust? Your actions have always been right, if occasionally misguided. Even if you are being influenced."

"I am who am, Sir."

"Too true. Hell's bells, we ain't got a lot of time. I have to give you something, Harry. Two somethings, actually, then we have something we need to do."

"I'm a little lost."

"You should be, but pay attention." He pulled the room key out of his pocket and handed it to me. "You'll need this key."

I looked at the heavy iron thing in my hand. "Am I locking up after us?"

"Nope, just you." At my confused expression, he smirked and reached into that damn mystery box of his. "And this," he said, pulling out a small leather pouch on a lanyard, "is another key."

He handed me the pouch. I stowed the room key in a pocket and opened the tiny sack. Inside was a handful of dust.

"Don't spill it."

I cinched it closed. "What is this?"

"The Key to the Black Hall."

"Um… what?"

McCoy sighed, then switched into lecture mode. "The office of the Blackstaff carries with it many responsibilities, but also privileges and tools. The Black Hall is one such tool. It is a protected Way, beneath the border of Seelie and Unseelie territory."

"Beneath the _border_ of Summer and Winter?"

He nodded. "It's a tunnel, with many, many doors along its length. That pouch contains the remains of the Key allowing access to the tunnel. A thousand years or so ago, it turned to dust on contact with human flesh, after being presented to Merlin as a gift from the Fae, allowing him or his chosen successor to always arrive where he needed to be, when he needed to be there."

"_When?_"

"The Queens can control the flow of time in their territories. The Black Hall is isolated from time, by the combined decree of both Queens Who Are. You can spend hours, or even days in the Hall, and emerge from it the moment you entered. But only if you have the Key. It is closed to all others, even the Queens themselves."

I just stared at my old teacher. "This is..." I struggled for words. "This is a pretty bitchin' tool, Sir."

He smirked again, but it faded fast. "That's how I got back after dropping off your car. I'd have volunteered it earlier, but only one person can use it at a time."

"Why are you giving it to me?" I slipped it over my head and tucked the pouch under my duster.

He stood and looked down at me. I felt very small, and very young. "I'm sending you back, Harry. One more time. Alone."

"One more… but you said - "

"I know what I said, boy. But I have finally realised something: Actions are more important than motives."

"I don't understand."

"You can mean to do something, but if you don't do it, how much is that thought worth? In our situation, the thought is definitely not what counts."

"I'm completely lost, Sir."

"Harry, something came to my attention earlier today. That something is proof to me that, while paradox is possible, sometimes, it's worth the risk."

I just stared at him for a moment. "The risk?"

"Yes. Sometimes you have to do something extreme to get the results you need."

I couldn't help it. "Like when you stopped me from grabbing Kim Delaney?"

He stiffened. "That was a bad risk, Hoss. An obvious one. Yeah, I did it, I stopped you. And I'd do it again. Like it or not, she had to die, and we had to let her."

Anger and frustration fought for dominance in me. I clenched my fists, and shook, just for a minute, staring at a spot on the wall. McCoy watched me, and said nothing. I kept my mouth shut, lest something regrettable slip out. After what felt like several days, I got myself under control.

"You gonna hold together, Hoss?"

I nodded. "I will. But I don't like the fact that I have to."

"Of course you don't. It's one of the reasons I respect you, Harry."

I looked up at him. He'd never said that he respected me before.

"Now, listen to me, you'll understand in a bit, but I need to tell you something else first. While I was in the Hall, I went over some of Peabody's journals again. Hoss, I found one reference to a 'missing tome.' I read a little deeper, and I think the arrogant son of a bitch was talking about one of his journals. He lost one of them. On this trip."

The information was coming quick, but one of the benefits of essentially having two minds in your head is that you figure things out twice as fast.

"She stole it," I said. "Kitoro. She took his journal."

McCoy was nodding. "Probably at the restaurant. She must have seen something in Peabody's mind that made her think the book was important. Knowing how they operate, she probably removed the memory he had of whatever it was he wrote down."

"She hit me with it," I muttered, rubbing the spot on my chest where she'd hit me with her purse.

"We need that book, Hoss. If it was important enough for her to steal, it's important enough for us to steal back."

"But we have no idea where she is, now."

"Which brings us back to me sending you back alone. Neither of us has the juice to power the spell from inside the circle, even with your Hellish companion. And you don't travel if you're outside the circle."

"So you can't send yourself."

"We need to know where she went, and where that journal has gone. If there's a reference to another link in the chain, we have to have it."

I nodded slowly. For the first time, I looked down at the floor, and saw that the sand was already poured out in a circle. I looked back at McCoy.

"Just make sure you clean up, nice and thorough. Now, I want to do this quick. From outside the circle, it's almost impossible to send you back more than a few hours. Need to get you back before that fight in the street. Well, come on, stand up Hoss."

I stepped into the circle of sand, and without thinking, reached down to will it closed. I touched the sand, pictured a wall flying up all around me, and felt the barrier snap into existence, a gentle pressure around me, a slight tightening against my skin.

I looked up at McCoy. "So that's why," he muttered.

"Sir?"

"Just stand there, Hoss." He closed his eyes, and Mouse leaned against him, as he had leaned against me on the last couple trips.

_Lash? Do you have any idea what's going on here? He's confusing me._

_I may. If everything he has said is taken together_… She trailed off.

_What? What is it?_

_Just be ready to push Hellfire._

_Push it? Push it where?_

_Into the circle. It is a creation of your will, not his. You can empower it… Yes! This must be what he was talking about._

_You're losing me._

_Clear your mind. He has already begun_.

Ebenezar indeed was already chanting, and Mouse was giving me a worried doggie look. I gave him one back.

_See you soon, boy_, I thought. _I hope_.

I felt the roar in the back of my mind, heard time itself protesting my movement, even though I held very still. I closed my eyes.

The pull felt almost familiar, having experienced it several times now. But it was weak. The power wasn't as focused, wasn't as direct. It was like McCoy was a sniper who had suddenly been transferred to machine gun detail. Plenty more bullets to work with, but the precision he was used to wasn't possible.

It suddenly occurred to me that McCoy hadn't explained how to use the Key to the Black Hall. My eyes snapped open, but my mouth wouldn't. _Do not speak, Harry. You could disrupt the spell, catastrophically. _

That wouldn't matter. The spell itself was barely working as it was. The pull I felt was waning. McCoy wasn't going to make it work. I could see him struggling; his focus wasn't as strong as it should have been.

_But it must work, Harry. I will explain later, but it must succeed!_

The panic at the back of my mind, from a voice that I had never heard in panic before, convinced me. I reached in, tapped the Hellfire, and projected it out.

It struck the invisible barrier of my will, and was absorbed and spread out, encircling me and stretching up and down, until I was contained in a cylinder of fire.

The pull of time strengthened along with a surge of volume from Time's Roar, and the heat and stench vanished into darkness, just like me.

*****

When I opened my eyes, I was looking up at Ebenezar. He was wearing a white shirt again. I slowly rotated my head and glanced at the clock. 1:30.

That's when I got it. Lash might have been nudging me along, but I finally understood. The realisation clicked inside my brain, and I understood the conversation I'd just had.

Paradox was _possible_. But if you understood what you were doing, it wasn't _likely_. That's why the risk could be taken. There was no guarantee of an outcome. There were just events I hadn't experienced yet, and didn't know how they would play out, but they were overlapping. Going back over and over was dangerous, but it was also necessary. Because it had _already happened_.

Okay, maybe I'm not explaining it very well. The point is, time travel is more like _Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure_ than _Back to the Future._

I knew another version of me was standing out in the hall with Mouse, whose ears had just perked up. Because he'd heard me. Or, this version of me.

Whatever.

"Harry?" McCoy asked quietly.

"Quick question, Sir." I pulled the Key out from under my jacket. "How do I use this?"


	9. Chapter 9

I stood at the door, Listening to McCoy and myself leave. I hadn't explained a thing to Ebenezar, beyond saying that I'd had to come back alone, for a very specific reason. He'd done like the Gatekeeper, and not asked for any more information.

No wonder he'd been so distracted in the elevator. Or was now. Either way.

"Alright, Lash, let's have a face-to-face."

She flickered into existence, a pretty brunette now, sitting on the bed in her toga, hands in her lap. She smiled up at me.

"Before you say anything, thank you."

She blinked. "You are welcome, Harry."

"You figured it out before I did. You figured out everything."

"You obviously did, as well."

I nodded. "I think I get it, now. Though I'm sure if I slip up, you'll be there to point out the obvious to me."

She bowed her head. "Of course."

"So, are we going to talk?"

"While we can speak, I would point out that the metaphorical clock is still ticking."

"So it is." I held up the Key. "Ready to go where no Fallen Angel has gone before?"

She stood and stepped up to me. "I am." She blinked out of existence.

I nodded and left the hotel room, locking up. Leaving the Black Hall was easy – I just needed to find the right exit door. To enter it, McCoy had explained, I needed an entry door. Not just any door, of course. I needed a crossroads.

The metaphysical power of a crossroads can be very important – some would say, of greatest importance – to the barrier into the Nevernever.

Oh, you can cross over pretty much anywhere, if you know how, opening a random portal. But that portal is connected to you, as much as the place you're in. No two people, even standing in the exact same place, could open a portal to the same location in the Nevernever without very powerful foci.

The energy flow in a crossroads, however, is different. Because of the sheer number of people passing through, and their accompanying thoughts and feelings, no portal opened in a great crossroads can be linked to any one individual. Which makes them ideal for stable portals. The geography of the Nevernever is constantly shifting at the whims of the powerful beings who live there, and to reflect the events and emotions of the real world on our side of the barrier.

But a crossroads can be linked to specific place, and won't change. Chicago itself is one of the dozen or so greatest crossroads in the world, and as such is relatively stable all around. But even here, there's a lot of drift. I needed a place where lots of people went by every day, and few if any lingered. A train station is ideal, but I didn't have time to walk all the way to Union Station.

So, like I often do, I cheated. I walked down to the lobby of the Amber Inn. You see, the lobby itself is a crossroads. People coming and going all the time, employees and guests alike, for all manner of reasons. I stood near the front door, waiting for a old couple to pass by and the heavy oak door to swing shut.

With a quick glance around the lobby and through the front windows to make sure no one was coming, I gripped the Key tightly, concentrated on the Black Hall (which was hard, since I'd never seen it before – so instead I concentrated on the _idea_ of the Black Hall) and pushed the door open.

The sudden lack of light and the tingle of foreign magical energy over my skin told me it had worked. The door swung shut behind me. My eyes adjusted quickly, and as I watched, the door clicked shut into a jamb of solid rock.

The rock itself was rough obsidian, almost pure black shot through with occasional luminescent lines. The ceiling and floor were the same. There was a small torch mounted in a sconce next to the door, and a small window set in the door, showing me the lobby I had just left, and the people milling about.

They weren't actually milling, of course. They weren't moving at all. The window was a still-life.

I shook my head in disbelief, then looked down the Hall, first in one direction then the other. There was no variation. The Hall just continued in a straight, dark line, receding into the infinite distance in both directions, lined with torches and doors.

As caves go, it wasn't too bad. Not cold or hot, no dripping dampness, and the floor was worn smooth. But it was a lonely place. I silently wished for Mouse, though it wasn't like I didn't have a friend to talk to. "Walk with me?" My voice didn't echo. Lash stepped up beside me from nowhere, her hair now a bright, natural red. "You going for blue, next?"

"Like Molly?"

I made a face. "She only changes her hair colour all the time because it was the first potion I taught her."

"And you enjoy seeing it?"

"I… guess. It's nice to know she's perfecting certain skills." I started walking, and she drifted along beside me. For some reason, I was just a little apprehensive about this topic of conversation.

"That isn't what I meant."

"My feelings for Molly are strictly teacher-student. You should know that."

"I do. Yet I should point out that since your relationship with Anastasia Luccio ended, Molly Carpenter is the only female wizard you know whom you may have a potential relationship with."

I was instantly hot under the collar. "Point number one, she's my best friend's daughter, so not a chance in hell. Point number two, I'm her teacher, see point number one. And point number three," I said, stopping and facing the pretty image beside me, "she's _not_ the only female wizard I know." My mind briefly flickered to Elaine.

Lash actually looked pained. "I know, Harry. But in many ways, you and Elaine have both moved on. She may have been your first, truest love, but you have loved since." I started walking again, looking in windows as I went, trying to get my metaphysical bearings. Most of the windows looked out onto intersections on the streets near the Amber Inn, or in to lobbies or platforms at bus stations.

"Susan Rodriguez is suffering as a half-vampire," she continued, and I let her, because I'd been thinking these things myself. Travelling through time, seeing mistakes undone and your own, younger body, gets you thinking about mortality. "And while Karrin Murphy loves you, she could never allow herself to be with you."

"How the hell did we get on this topic?" I glared through another window, and saw Union Station.

"You mentioned my hair."

I looked at Lash, who was dead serious, and laughed. She didn't look like she understood, so naturally I laughed harder. She just stood there, looking confused.

Eventually, I sank to my ass, leaning against a door, still chuckling a little. She kneeled down beside me, concern in every line of her face. "Are you alright, Harry?"

I shook my head. "Not even close." Things had been bothering me, and I had to let them out. I had to say them out loud. And I finally had time to do it. All the time in the world. "This whole trip was a bad idea." She sat, and watched me. I knew she wasn't really watching me, wasn't even really sitting there, but I appreciated having a face to talk to.

"This was such a bad time for me. Murphy was giving me the cold shoulder because I never told her anything about the White Council or the greater supernatural world.

"Michael – you know he never had a single serious injury in all his hero-ing until he met me?

"The White Council – they considered me a threat to be watched and destroyed, like a poorly trained dog, even while I was upholding all their freaking ideals.

"And Kim! Hell's bells, that's got to be the worst of it. I was so hung up on being a _wizard_, being so smart and powerful, and taking that position so seriously, protecting a Council that hated and feared me, that I got a friend killed!"

I finished my rant, and deflated a little. I closed my eyes, felt tears welling up, felt a few get out… felt a warm hand on my cheek. I opened my eyes to see her smiling sadly at me. She wasn't actually wiping away my tear, she was just telling my nerves what to tell my brain, but it still felt damn good. Then she was hugging me, and that felt even better.

"In the last eight years," I muttered, "I've done almost as much damage as I have good. There are buildings that will soon be burned down in this town because I got carried away; there are innocent people who will die because I was too stupid to help them."

"Yet think of all the people who lived because you protected them. Remember the Darkhallow, a ritual which would have killed nearly every living being in Chicago, that you prevented. Regardless of what else you have done, in just that moment, you saved several millions of lives. I dare say no damage you have done has outweighed that single act."

I leaned back against the wall, away from her illusory comfort. "It's good to save a lot of lives, Lash, no argument. But there are single, individual lives I would liked to have saved, too."

We sat there for a bit, while I worked the regret out of my system.

Then, in a tiny voice, she said, "I am sorry, Harry."

"What about?"

"Your emotional difficulty at this moment."

"Yeah. I thought I was holding together just fine, but I guess not."

"Actually, I meant that I may be having an effect on you, regarding that."

I tried to give her a sharp look, but she was gone. "Lash? What are you talking about?" I stood, awkwardly, my staff tumbling out of my fingers.

"Some of the parts of your mind that were damaged… were very close to your emotional centre. My return may be causing you some… distress."

A bit of fear and anger crept up on me, now. "You're messing with me? With my feelings?" I dropped down and groped for my staff.

"Not on purpose!" she said, and she sounded urgent. Then, quieter, "I am sorry, Harry." No petulance, no arrogance. Just sorrow.

I fought to get myself under control. It took a few minutes, and a lot of deep breathing, but I did it. "It's alright, Lash."

She was standing beside me again. "I could help you, if I may, to maintain control, but I doubt very much you want me to."

I shook my head, still down on all fours. "I… appreciate the offer. But I need to be able to keep a handle on myself, at all times." I hung my head, suddenly emotionally drained. "Emotions are good, but they can also be dangerous. I have to be able to control them myself. Hell, I'm probably just tired. And hungry." I pushed up to my knees, and saw her, also on her knees, looking at me. There was admiration there, I think.

"You are…" she trailed off for a moment, shaking her head. "Remarkable," she finished.

"Yeah. I'm ridiculously remarkable."

"And remarkably ridiculous."

The surprise was plain on my face. "Was that a joke?"

She smiled, and laughed, and it was the most human thing I'd ever seen on her.

*****

We walked for a while. Alright, technically, I walked, and she pretended to, but the image was nice. We talked a bit, and though I was itching to learn more about Outsiders, I wanted to stay focussed for now. I stopped and looked through every door I came to, and saw still pictures, captured moments from around the world. I saw bus stations, train stations, airports, seaports, lobbies, schools and street intersections. I'm pretty sure I was looking out of a door set in the side of the Eiffel Tower at one point.

I didn't recognize a single one, at first. Then, after what felt like an hour or three, but was probably only fifteen minutes, I came to a door that looked out on something rather familiar. "I know that corner. Why do I know that corner?"

"That is the intersection of 95th street and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Drive," Lash said. "You must be looking through a door at Chicago State University."

"Great. Too bad I only meet the Alphas tonight. Now I just need something on the north side of town, and we're golden."

Eight doors later, I had it.

I was looking out at a short road, with a run-down tenement on the other side.

I was looking through the front door of another low-rent apartment, which made a sad kind of sense; many of the people living there would be just passing through on their way to a better place.

I was looking at the street where, later today, another version of me would fight a vampire.

To paraphrase my old teacher, if that ain't convenience, I don't know what is. "Here we go," I said, and pulled the door open. The threshold was a rectangle of perfect darkness. I took a deep breath, then stepped through, feeling a tingle of energy pass over me.

I hadn't realised how completely silent the Hall had been until I stepped back into the real world. Honking horns, people's voices, the cool October wind and the blare of sirens filled the air instantly. It was very bright out, after the Hall, and I checked my watch. It showed the same time as when I'd stepped out of the Inn.

I found that bizarrely inconsistent and very convenient, but that's faerie magic for you.

Anyway, I turned back to building before the door could swing completely shut, and pulled it back open. Thee was only a vestibule beyond, with a panel of call buttons on the wall and a locked safety-glass door. I stepped in, pointed my staff and murmured, "_Forzare_." The handle on the other side of the door clicked down, and I successfully entered without breaking.

I took six flights of stairs up, repeated my trick with the door, and found myself on the roof.

_Harry?_

_Yes?_

_Kitoro will not pass this way for over five hours. Why are we here now?_

_I need a nap, and I might as well pass the time sleeping as not pass the time sleeping, if you see what I mean._

_Ah. While you could sleep in the Hall, you would still have to pass the time somehow._

_Exactly. I've got everything I need to chase her down with me right now. Can you block out the light and sound for a bit? Wake me if anything happens, or if the time goes by?_

_Of course. Rest. I will watch over you._

I smiled a little smile, found a relatively sheltered spot, out of the sun and out of sight of the door, and kicked it clear of that stone they always put on roofs. I doffed my duster, bundled it up into a pillow, lay down, and the world disappeared.

About four and a half hours later, a voice woke me. _Harry_, it said. _Harry!_ I started and came awake. _There is someone here_.

Awake at once, I opened my eyes to a twilit sky, and threw up my left hand, readying my shield. I came face-to-staff with a very tall, dark, cloaked figure.

"Wizard Dresden, correct?" the Gatekeeper asked.

I dropped my shield, and made my breathing return to normal. "Yes," I said. "That would be me." _And this would be your first time meeting me. What an impression I just made._

"I could ask what you are doing here."

I smiled. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Yes, but I asked first. It would be polite if you replied first."

He had me there. "Actually, I'm waiting for a couple things. You?"

He regarded me for a moment, then I felt the relaxing of energy I hadn't even realised was built up around me. He was letting go the magic he'd held to strike me with. And there was a _lot_ of it. Good thing I'm so charming, I suppose.

"I am in town on Council business," he said.

"Official business, huh? Thought that started tomorrow. You're not, say, looking into a hush-hush temporal disturbance, the energy pattern leading you here, among other places?"

He stiffened. I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew they were trained on me. "Where did you get that information?"

I smiled, taking immense pleasure in the irony. "Why, from you, Gatekeeper."

His hood turned slightly, in a subtle statement of shock. Don't get me wrong, the Gatekeeper's a decent guy, but it's really satisfying to play the Mysterious card against him for once.

After a moment, he seemed to relax, and stepped back from me. I took that as permission to stand up.

"I take it," he said, "that we should not talk further?"

I smiled again. "Actually, I was wondering if you could pass on a message for me."

*****

Once the Gatekeeper left, I made a quick arrangement near the very edge of the building's roof, then headed back to street level. After a quick instant re-play courtesy of my Head-Angel, I formed an idea. I call it an idea because it was too simple to be a plan.

And I just realised how dirty the expression 'Head-Angel' sounds.

I crossed the road to stand at the corner across from the one my past self was about o come around, mostly for the view. Ignoring the people walking by, who also pointedly ignored me, I drew a circle on the ground and sealed myself in. I pulled out the bit of Mouse's hair I still had in my pocket and started my spell. Had to be careful - I didn't have too much time before the party started, and if I'd understood Ebenezar correctly, I was on my last mulligan.

I formed the spell as best I could, and willed it out into the universe as I broke the circle with my foot.

The effect was immediate. A small, grey patch of light, kind of smeared at the edge of my vision, appeared in my arcane senses. It was just up the road.

I leaned against the corner of the building, hunched down, tried to look like part of the wall, gave up, and raised a weak veil, which is about the best I can do. Colour drained out of everything. I quietly made a note to ask Molly to help me refine my technique.

_I can help you perfect a veil_, Lash said to me.

_Right this instant?_

She sighed. _No. It will take some practice._

_Right. Well, thanks. We'll try it if I live?_

I felt her amusement. _Of course_.

The taxi that Kitoro was riding in turned down the road, and the _Beetle,_ obscured by a giant grey paint blob that only I could see, swung around a moment later. I stuck my head around the corner. The next few moments played out pretty much as I remembered them, except slower.

The cars stopped, the doors opened. The blob of grey moved to the center of the road, while a smaller, pale blue smear attached itself to a very tall wizard in an awesome coat.

The rest of the encounter was a blur, with much flailing of limbs. I felt a searing surge of anger when I saw Mouse take a walloping for me. Though, I had to admit, I was kind of proud; in the reverse situation, I'd have done exactly the same for him.

It's a guy/dog thing.

I watched as she kicked my shield, pulled a ninja move and smacked me with the damn book I was now hunting. Then I smiled a little as the Grey blob around Mouse spread itself out a bit. He was nipping at her feet, but as I had seen in the replay Lash gave me, his saliva was flinging around.

As he spit, a little bit of his essence was transferred to everything he spat on… including a certain short, annoying vampire. As it touched her, the deep, strong grey turned to a pale, ugly red.

It was nice seeing where she went when she was veiled. She could hide herself effortlessly, but she wasn't trying to hide any part of Mouse, which was why the spell worked.

I saw McCoy and Mouse get shoved into the _Beetle_; I saw myself get my ass handed to me. The _Beetle_ fled into traffic, then Kitoro was screeching, bouncing off my shield again. I was on my back. Then the ugly red blur was grabbing me and throwing me back up the street. The other me was going to land on his neck – _my_ neck - which would have been bad for both people named Harry on this street, so I put out my hand, palm up, and flicked my fingers upwards as I whispered "_Forzare_." The other me landed softly.

She was on me – the other me – in a flash. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael's truck arrive.

I looked up at the roof of the building I'd slept on earlier. To buy my past self a few more seconds, I had arranged a minor distraction. I put all my power into my will as I pulled my outstretched arm in and whispered "_Forzare_!" one more time.

Three large planting pots, all made of heavy clay, swept off the edge of the building and crashed down around her. The other me had only been able to see one pot fall, but Kitoro had assumed she was under attack and stopped trying to kill me long enough for Michael to get closer.

I watched as Michael fought for my release without moving a muscle. They spoke, then she released me. She veiled herself quickly, but I could still see the red-ish haze surrounding the place where she was supposed to be, swiftly moving up the street toward me. I stood against the wall and thought flat thoughts. The red cloud zipped past me and shot down the street.

I started running. Normally, I could never keep up with a running vampire, no matter what Court she was from. But she was hungry, and had just had a very disconcerting fight. She wouldn't be going far.

At least, that was what I hoped. I like to run; it's my main exercise and I go just about every other day. But after a block and a half, I was breathing hard. Two blocks later, I started getting a stitch. Carrying my staff was difficult, and my blasting rod was banging against my leg. Maintaining a veil wasn't helping, either. Much longer, and I was going to get a headache. Well, maybe.

Finally, after another block, with my calves starting to burn, the little red blur slowed to a more human pace, and I was able to breathe again. Heavily. The chill air didn't help my throat any. I saw the floating blob move into an alcove in front of a darkened storefront. I jogged to catch up, but then she re-emerged, fully visible.

I stopped and stared. She'd just staged her re-appearance. Classy.

Trailing her while I was essentially invisible was a nice change. The widely spaced streetlights helped a bit. She kept checking around, but she knew Michael wasn't coming after her, and she also knew she could kick my ass.

She didn't walk much farther. To my great delight, she headed for a motel. I paused when I saw it. This was yet another building that was going to get 'accidentally' damaged in a few years – though in that case, it would be Elaine's doing, not mine.

I followed close, but not too close, staying out of the lights, and trying to step lightly. She stepped up to a door. I stopped behind a car, and ducked down. I watched her pull a key out of her purse and enter the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, I dropped the veil and took a deep breath. Colour rushed back in.

Huh. No headache, but I was feeling pressure.

_You blocking that pain out?_

_Yes. It helps you concentrate, no?_

_You know, it does. In the future, just give me the heads up beforehand so I know what to expect?_

I could feel her embarrassment. _Of course. I apologize._

_No problem_. I thought about it for a second. _This is something friends do, you know. They talk. They help. They make little mistakes. They make up… and they stay friends._

She was quiet for a second. _Thank you, Harry_. There was relief in her voice.

I smiled. Then I crept up to the window to Kitoro's room, and started Listening.

All I heard was, "Fine. Ten minutes." Then a phone clicking down. Ah. The plot thickens. There was a payphone on the corner, still in view of her room.

I made a call, then found a bench and sat down, trying to relax the pressure behind my eyes away. Lash was lifting her pain-suppressant little by little.

I heard a car, the first one in several minutes, coming up the road. I stood and wandered back into the parking lot, away from any lights. With one last, deep breath, I veiled myself again. It wouldn't hold up if someone came along specifically looking for me, but in a shadow, with no one expecting me there, it should work just fine. For a little while.

The car pulled in to the parking lot, and slowly circled, eventually pulling up a few doors down from Kitoro's room, in a deep shadow. The lights and engine went off, and I edged closer. A man emerged from the car, slowly checking around. I couldn't see his face, but he was damn familiar. Then he stepped into some light, and I realised why: I'd almost ripped his throat out with my own teeth, once.

Agent Denton.


	10. Chapter 10

Phil Denton was only a couple inches shorter than me, his hair solid black and his frame athletic. His FBI-standard suit was bark blue, and he moved with authority in his step. I stood frozen, fifteen feet away from him in shadow, trying not to breathe. His eyes were sharp and constantly moving – a predator's eyes. He wasn't shaped like a wolf right now, but his bearing was decidedly wolf-like.

As he came closer to me, I concentrated harder on my veil, trying to block out scents as well as light. He kept walking, then I was looking at his back. I breathed out, silently, through my mouth.

He instantly stopped and looked over his shoulder. Before I could breathe in a gasp, I felt my mouth shut and my throat close. I got over the shock of that quickly. _Thanks._

_I apologise, but it seemed prudent. To prevent noise._

_Good call. I think I got it now_. She let go of my throat muscles, and I breathed in, slowly.

Denton looked around with his piercing grey eyes. After a moment, he relaxed again and stepped up to the door. Kitoro opened it and ushered him in. Without moving, I focussed on my sense of hearing.

"This has to be quick," Denton said. "I have to be on my way to a crime scene shortly."

"It will be," the vampire's voice replied. I heard the rustling of paper. "This is a warning."

"A warning about what?"

"His name is Dresden."

"Dresden?" I heard more paper moving, then Denton's voice came back, but with more disbelief. "A psychic consultant? Who helps the police? Is this a joke?"

"No. And neither is he. Dresden is a wizard."

"A wizard?"

"Do you doubt the existence of magic, Agent Denton?"

About two months ago, he would have. Most people do. But one month ago, someone gave him four really nifty belts. Touching one of them, with the right intent in mind, would turn a person into a wolf. A pretty neat trick, aside from the loss of sanity that goes with it.

"No, of course not. How old is this article?"

"Six months. He is not brought in often, but he does have a habit of making smooth operations… rough."

What can I say? She's got my number.

"Says here he worked with Lieutenant Murphy's Special Investigations unit. Figures."

"You know him?"

"Her. And yes. We met yesterday. A good cop, unfortunately."

"Can you handle her?"

He hesitated. Just for a second, but it made me smile. "Yes. I can simply pull rank. And Mr. Dresden… well, if you'll pardon the expression, I can throw him to the other wolves." He'd actually thrown me to lycanthrope berserkers. They didn't transform into wolves, but they had the pack mentality and killer instincts of them, and they'd almost killed me to death.

"Good."

"Is that all?"

"Yes. Just remember that he can be dangerous. And he has underworld contacts. Dangerous ones, that even you cannot yet match."

"You mean Marcone? John Marcone is a killer and a robber baron. I'll deal with him before the week is out."

_Oh, you'll try, Phil_. John Marcone was the _de facto_ crime boss of Chicago, and one smart, tough bastard. Chicago could do worse, of course; Marcone was fanatical about keeping collateral damage down.

"If you say so. It is in your hands. Consider yourself warned. Now, I must go."

"Meeting The Librarian, again?" I heard the sneer in his voice, and I heard her freeze. "Our benefactor? You meet them in the public library, right?"

Her voice was frozen solid. "How do you know that?"

"I'm a professional investigator. It's my job to know… to, uh… to know…"

She was eating his memory. I took a few quick steps back as she emerged from the motel room before she could pick up on my thoughts. She looked around, then started walking north. She stepped into a shadow, and never came out. The pale red smear I'd attached to her was faded, almost completely gone, but it was still moving in the same direction. I walked back to Denton's car, kicked one of the tires out of spite, and jogged back to the phone booth.

About five seconds after Denton pulled out, a white pick-up truck pulled up to the phone, and I stepped out of my veil and into the light.

"Hey, Michael," I said through the open window.

"You know, Harry, when I said you could call, I didn't expect the phone to be ringing as I walked in the door."

"Did I disturb dinner?"

"No. Charity left me a note: her mother is ill. She took the children with her early this afternoon."

"Sorry, but, convenient." I got in.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways."

"Does He ever. Do you happen to know where the nearest library is?"

He thought for a moment. "About five or six blocks north of here, I believe."

I nodded. Same direction she'd been heading in. "We need to get there, now."

"Then we will," he said, perfectly sure. The truck pulled out, fast.

*****

The library was a fairly modern building, but not exactly brand new. It had a couple of those flowing half-arches that were in vogue for a while, and was made mostly of brown brick. It stood by itself, next to a small park populated by trees. The neighbourhood was quiet, but well-lit. We parked just down the block between two other cars, and I got out.

"What are we looking for?"

"That vampire who tried to kill me earlier."

Michael looked at me, then looked away quickly. Then he looked at me again, and away again. The conflict on his face was obvious. "I gave my word, Harry. I know she's a vampire, but…" he trailed off.

Damn. I'd almost forgotten about that part. It was easily remedied, though. "Actually, I'm not hoping to run into her again. I just need to know who she's answering to. That person should be here."

He nodded, mollified, and got out. He reached into the back of the truck, and pulled out the gym bag he kept his Sword in, then we both hoofed it over to the library. It was after hours, of course, but there were still a couple lights on inside, and I knew right away we were in the right place.

"How do you know she is here, Harry?"

"The library's been closed for over an hour, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, first of all, I can feel the slight chilling energy she leaves behind when she passes. And second," I said, grabbing the outer door and pulling it open, "the door should be locked."

Michael nodded, serious, and stepped inside. I followed and he pulled _Amoracchius_ out. The vestibule was dim. I opened the next door very quietly, and again Michael went in first.

The place was carpeted, which would mask our footfalls, and dark but for two large overheads. In front of us was the checkout desk; to the left, the exit and its book detectors; to the right, the way in. A little further to the right, there was an open staircase leading up to the second floor. A murmur filtered down. We glanced at each other, then I stepped forward, my left hand and its shield bracelet ahead of me.

We inched ahead quickly as I dared, and I kept my eyes moving. If there was another Jade here, I'd have a better chance of getting a glimpse in my peripheral vision if they were veiled.

At the bottom of the stairs, we could hear a voice, and it was definitely Kitoro's. But she was mumbling something I couldn't understand.

_Lash? You hear that?_

_Yes. But… she is not speaking a language I know. It is nonsense._

_Nonsense? Why would she - ?_

Then I knew. I use nonsense words myself – when I'm casting a spell.

"Crud," I whispered, and started up the stairs two at a time, Michael at my heels. The stairs hooked a ninety degree turn half way up. As I came to the upper floor, I saw her, standing at the far end of the fiction section, concentrating on a thin line of purple energy slicing right through Stephen King and Dean Koontz.

"Harry, what - ?" Michael started.

Kitoro's head snapped around, and the line began to disappear. "Wizard," she hissed. Then she turned back to the line, and sank her fingers _into_ it, pulling it apart.

I started forward down the stacks, and Michael took the next aisle. "She's escaping into the Nevernever!"

It made a kind of sense. Vampires – all vampires, regardless of Court – have the ability to cross over to the Nevernever and back again, but only in places of significance to them. My brother, Thomas, or any member of his family, could open a portal quite easily if they were in a brothel, for example, because they feed on lust.

For a Jade Court vampire, who feeds on memories, where better than a building where people were always reading, discovering new things and learning? She'd probably have an even easier time in a school.

Well, maybe not a public school.

I couldn't see past her into the portal, but she shouted, "I need help!"

Halfway down the aisle, I saw her duck. From the portal, I saw half a dozen lovely faerie forms emerge and hover off the floor. Six beautiful, naked, waif-thin female faerie forms.

I skidded to a halt. They all had massive, paper-thin wings and pale, ethereal skin. One of them opened her mouth, and I saw rows of pointed teeth. "Ah, crap. I hate sylphs."

Sylphs are air elementals. They almost never touch the ground. They can control the flow of air. If they're really pissed, they can cause storms and lightning. They could turn into air, if they wanted. They tend to rip human beings apart, and have been doing so since about the time of the Industrial Revolution. They're also not known for their loyalty. I once hunted down a rogue sylph as a favour to Lily, the current Summer Lady.

I didn't have time to think about any of those things. Three of them came hurtling down the aisle at me, teeth and hands first. Their wings didn't so much flap as flutter.

I threw up my shield and felt the first one break against it. She immediately began to bleed pinkish blood from her nose and mouth, then hit the floor. Sylphs aren't known for their intelligence or resilience, either.

The second one stopped short. Then she threw out her arms, which did something very distracting to her chest, and I felt the wind begin to blow.

Fortunately, sylphs aren't the only ones who can control the air. Pages and whole books began to fly in my direction, but I planted my feet, and shouted, "_Ventas servitas!_"

The wind shifted, and blew sideways. Both sylphs were flung against the shelves, and I could see the gust caught Kitoro as well, sort of; she dodged another book shelf that fell over, and jumped back from her portal, which instantly began to shrink.

I jumped the downed sylph, but the wind caster tried to grab me. I swung my staff arm at her, and felt nothing. She turned to air, then made to grab me again. I took another swing, but she vaporized again. As she solidified once more, she smiled a vicious, horrible smile that twisted her face into something not even close to beautiful. She opened her mouth to take a bite out of me… and jerked. I looked down at her lovely chest again, and saw the tip of a sword protruding, covered in pink blood.

Her body dissolved into nothing, not even ectoplasm. Of course, the sylphs hadn't been summoned to Earth; they had come through a portal, using their true bodies. This sylph had just died, permanently.

Michael pulled the Sword back through the book shelf, and more than one book. There were no sylphs in his aisle, so I assume he killed him with gusto. The last sylph cowered away from me. Michael nodded to me, then we both turned back to the portal. Kitoro was pulling it open again.

I ran. I dropped my staff a few feet away, then jumped, pushing off on only one foot and tackling her to the side. Her concentration broken once more, the portal started collapsing again.

As we fell, she twisted her left elbow into my left side, and forced my grip to loosen. It also hurt like hell, but I don't think I broke anything.

It didn't matter. My right hand had her purse, and I pulled it as I hit the floor. We rolled apart. I couldn't stand, but I'm pretty sure she landed on her feet; I looked over, and she was crouched down, ready to pounce. Then, Michael was there, between us.

I pulled out the journal. It was about half an inch thick.

"Knight," she said, in that raspy voice of hers. "You gave your word."

"I gave my word that you would go free, if Harry was left unharmed."

"He has attacked me."

"I know. Which is why, so long as you do not hit him back, I will take no further action against you."

Her focus was entirely on him, which was good.

"Step aside, Knight. I will do him no harm. I wish only to reclaim my property, and be gone."

"It's alright, Michael," I said, standing up. _Hold on tight in there, Lash_. "I've made a mistake. I very unfortunate one. I offer my apologies," I said, as I handed her purse back to her.

I saw the two surviving sylphs float up to the end of the aisle they'd been cowering in. They looked between Michael and I, and didn't quite leave the aisle.

Kitoro stepped past me, then sunk her hands into the almost closed portal. "Your apologies mean nothing to me, Wizard. You are holding a great secret from me, and I will uncover it."

I said nothing as she pulled the portal open again, then jumped through. The two sylphs flew after her. Something about sylphs was tingling in the back of my mind, but I ignored it for now.

Michael turned to me. "What was that all about?"

I shook my head. "I did make a mistake," I said. "We should have let her go through." I stepped up to the portal, now closing, and saw Kitoro vanishing into a lush, dense forest. "Then," I said, "we should've followed her."

Michael sheathed the Sword and nodded. I grabbed my staff. I couldn't pull Kitoro's portal open any farther, so I simply threw myself through it. I landed in a roll, and got out of the way of _Amoracchius_, which flew in after me. Michael followed a moment later. I looked over my shoulder. The little purple line stitched itself closed, and vanished. Michael had the Sword over his shoulder in a second, and we were off.

By which, I should say, we started jogging, cautiously. We were in the land of Faerie. Nothing can be taken for granted. The soil was rich and dark. The trees were tall and thick, the leaves bright green and the air, despite the foliage, was fresh.

You can't trust any of it. The lands of Faerie exist and function at the whim of their Queens. The land could shift out from under us, the trees could reach out and strangle us, the leaves could burst into flame, and air could turn to poison, all because the Queen was bored. And that doesn't even cover the other creatures roaming around, most of which were far more dangerous than sylphs.

That being said, I had Michael with me. Bad things have a habit of not happening when he's around.

We moved, and mostly, I let Michael lead. He's a better tracker than I am, and his instincts are just sharper than mine. I was terrified and excited at the same time. Terrified that I was in a wild, possibly hostile place, and might lose my quarry. Excited that she might be about to lead me to the next link in the chain, and I'd discover another member of the Black Council.

After a little while, a few minutes, maybe, or more, the ground began to change. Michael began to slow, and had to concentrate more before deciding which branches in the path to take.

The trees began to change, too. When we started, there was nothing but large, strong oaks. Now there were smaller trees, and many different types: maple, poplar, birch, apple. Undergrowth was popping up everywhere.

We came to a near-solid wall of vegetation, and Michael came to a stop. I stopped beside him, and he looked to me, putting a finger to his lips. He drew out _Amoracchius_, and held it between us and the wall.

I nodded, steadied my breathing, planted my staff, and closed my eyes, directing all my focus to my sense of hearing.

Kitoro's voice came to me through the bushes. "Well met, Lady of Summer."

Then a voice I'd never thought I'd hear again, a voice I had silenced myself, drifted to me. It was a sweet voice, seemingly young and definitely girlish. It was the voice of Aurora, the previous Summer Lady, who I had killed to prevent a major ecological disaster on Earth, and an upsetting of balance in Faerie. She had basically gone insane, trying to stop what she called 'the hurting.'

"And you, my friend. Is this a gift?"

"It is the thoughts of the wizard Peabody. He suspected your involvement. And… the other. I removed those thoughts."

Aurora's voice became serious, almost grave. "You did very well, then. Our alliance proves its worth."

"I am glad to fulfil my part."

"Does something weigh upon you?"

The was a short pause. "Yes. There is a young wizard. Dresden. He may know I am here."

The smile returned to Aurora's voice. "The wizard Dresden is of no concern. I have a way of controlling him." She's kind of right. At this point in time, Elaine was still her bitch.

"That is well, then."

"How fares your sister, Sumi?"

"She is… well. We have not spoken recently."

Aurora became wistful. "You should. Family is very important, my friend. At times, it is all you can rely on." The was another pause, then her voice perked up again. "Well, I accept this not as a gift, but as a part of our bargain. I am pleased that the pain will soon stop." Then, she said something I had not expected. "And Mother will be pleased that her plan is proceeding apace."

That was what had been bugging me about sylphs: they're not known for their loyalty, except to the Queen of Summer.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: A special thanks to everyone who has read and commented on this story, and its prequel. If you like it, I'm glad; if you don't, rest assured another story is coming... soon, I hope.**

Suddenly, _Amoracchius_ flared. Kitoro's voice cried out, "There is someone here!"

I grabbed Michael's shoulder and we ran. About a dozen steps later, there was a ruckus behind us, and the foliage parted. I glanced back and saw a dozen sylphs flying at us. "Move, move!"

Michael pushed me one way around a tree and he went the other. The sylphs came around it and smacked into my shield. Four of them bounced off, the rest stopped in mid-flight, and we took our opening to run again. Michael kept _Amoracchius_ moving, barely keeping them out of reach.

I tried to concentrate on opening a portal back to Chicago, but the lesson I'd just learned kept clanging in my mind. _Titania is behind the Black Council. Does that even make sense? Was Aurora lying?_

Lash's voice, calm, certain. _The Fae are unable to lie. And yes, this does make sense. All this time you have been afraid the Winter Queen was going insane, but what if her actions have been only to balance the Summer Queen?_

That was possibly the scariest thing I'd heard in months. _Put it out of my mind for a sec, would you?_

Every thought I had vanished, save one: _open a portal home_. A sylph came in low, just as Michael brought his Sword down on another. I brought my staff up, and the sylph turned to air the instant before I could clock her with it. Didn't matter. I brought the staff down again, focussed on home, and murmured, "_Aparturum_!"

A glowing yellow line formed in the air in the wake of my staff, then split open, exposing a dark city street.

Michael impaled another sylph, then I grabbed his shoulder and we jumped through.

We fell about three feet. I landed on my staff, which, unfortunately, I was still holding. My whole weight came down on my right hand, and after a moment's flaring pain, it went numb. Michael, taking the landing better, got back to his feet. I looked around. "I know this street," I said to myself. As the portal closed, eight sylphs jumped through. I stood up, dropping my staff.

It was night, traffic was non-existent, and there were eight beautiful, naked monsters about to rip my throat out. I love my life.

Michael stayed a half step in front of me, as we backed up to a storefront. The sylphs had finally learned to keep their distance, waiting for Michael to get distracted. I shook my hand, trying to wake it up.

Everything stayed tense for two more seconds, three. Then one of the sylphs opened her mouth in a cruel, pointy grin. It was the one whose nose I'd broken earlier, of course. "Hey, it was nothing personal, you know."

The rest of them opened their mouths, too. Three of them in a confined space, I could handle. Eight, in the open air…

My fingers started to twitch, but that was it. "Oh, man," I said. "I could really use a _deus ex machina_ right about now."

"Isn't that my job, Harry?"

"Usually, but you're already involved here."

"In that case, we could just pray."

Maybe he did. Of in the distance, there was an explosion. Michael and I both looked up, because it had come from above. The sylphs froze, too. There was a huge crash, closer than before, then another, almost on top of us.

It clicked in my head. I knew exactly what was happening. Not exactly a god in a machine, but stars and stones, I'd take it. I pushed Michael off to the side. "Run!" I shouted. I had realized why the street was so familiar; it was only three blocks from the police station.

There was a final crash, and a massive, vaguely dog-like shape blew out the side of the building across the street and hit the ground where we had been. Its fur was still burning from where I – the real me, the one who actually belonged in this time, who would soon be kidnapped and beaten by the lycanthropes – had bitch-slapped it with a ball of fire.

It picked itself up. Michael and I stood frozen. Even the sylphs didn't move.

"What is that?" Michael asked.

It let out a very loud roar. "That's my other case," I said. "It's a loup-garou. And it's not very happy."

The sylphs let out high-pitched, inhuman shrieks, and tried to flee. Harley MacFinn's cursed werewolf form slapped two of them fro the sky, breaking them. Several more simply turned to air and drifted away. Another actually tried to attack, and died quickly from a backhand. I saw my nosey friend leap up into the sky and vanish into shadow.

Then it saw us. I had the feeling back in my hand, but I couldn't reach my staff; it was standing on it. Michael, as ever, was ready. "Stand down, beast, or make peace with the Lord!" he shouted, and his voice carried like no human voice should have.

I could be mistaken, but the loup-garou seemed to waiver a moment. Knowing that Michael had to survive this encounter, I stepped up beside him, left hand out. If I had to die to protect him, I would. But Titania… Could I take the risk of telling Michael?

_Just wait another second, Harry_, Lash said.

_Another second until what?_

Then I remembered how I dealt with the furry guy eight years ago: Using a tiny bit of its blood and a Snoopy doll, I'd deafened and blinded it. With no warning, it grabbed its own head, scratching at its eyes, then its ears. It let out a deafening howl of rage and confusion. I smiled. "Ha!" I said.

It flailed its arms once, twice, and one of its claws caught my outstretched hand.

Oh, son of a bitch, that hurt. I fell to my knees, screaming, clutching my left hand. Why, oh why did I not have a shield up? Because I'm stupid, that's why.

"Harry! Are you alright?" Michael was kneeling beside me. The loup-garou was loping drunkenly down the street.

"Yes," I gasped. "It just got the meat of the hand." I was bloodied, but I wasn't bleeding profusely. It hadn't cut my wrist.

"I have to stop it from hurting anyone else."

"Go. I'll catch up if I can. Otherwise, I'll see you soon."

He nodded, and took off. I felt sorry for the monster. I pulled myself up and stumbled to my staff. I grabbed it from among the detritus of the loup-garou's impact, and stood up.

Nosey the Sylph came out of nowhere and hit me in the face. I landed on my back, my duster open and my head spinning. She landed on my chest, driving the air out, and made to bite my nose off. I got my arms up, but she grabbed my right hand, bit it, then pulled my arms apart and went for the nose again. "I told you it wasn't personal!" I wheezed.

A small, precise shock of force hit her, hard, and drove her off me. I don't know what happened to her after that. I lay there, sucking in air. "Wizard Dresden?"

Weak, breathless and stunned, I couldn't answer. My hands hurt. A lot. The Gatekeeper's hood floated into view. He drew it back with one hand, revealing his scars and replacement eye. There was concern there, I think. His eyes drifted down to my chest, then widened in shock.

"You are full of surprises, my young friend."

I lay there a little while, unable to think clearly, while he did something. Then he pulled me to my feet. I got a massive rush from that motion. _Lash? What's going on?_

Her response was a little slurred. _I am… dizzy._

_You're dizzy? You don't even have ears. No fluid to get all mixed up._

_I have yours. And your sense of balance. And you are dizzy, as well_.

_Good point_. I didn't lose consciousness, but it was a close call. I felt so woozy, I had trouble seeing where I was going. Fortunately, the Gatekeeper held my arm.

"I'm a little… out of it," I mumbled.

"Not surprising. Sylphs can be poisonous. Their bite can corrupt the air in your lungs, or the oxygen in your blood."

_Oh, I see. I'm faerie-drunk_. I giggled, felt my staff appear in my hand at some point, then I stepped through a door and everything got dark.

A short time later, things got brighter again, and we were near my house.

"Wizard Dresden," he said. "You must disable your wards."

I looked down at my hands, bandaged and in pain. Thinking was getting a little easier. "I don't think I can. But I'll show you how."

He took my right hand in his left, and I gave him a crash course in how I build wards. They're not terribly complicated, but they're fairly sturdy. Of course, the Gatekeeper is a quick learner. He had my wards down in under ten seconds after I showed him how. Then I felt something soft under my back, and I finally passed out.

*****

I woke up on my own sofa, a few hours later. My head was clear, and the light outside was dim. I did a quick check with Lash.

I turned my head to see Ebenezar and the Gatekeeper talking quietly. McCoy saw me first. "Hoss, you alright?"

"Almost. How long was I out?"

"Few hours. You had to sleep it off. It's dawn, now. You were gone for about 30 hours."

How about that. I skipped over more than an entire day while in the Nevernever. Kind of made up for all the restarts I'd had. I hoped I hadn't gotten Michael in trouble.

"Where's Mouse?"

"Keeping watch outside. Didn't think the dog and the cat should meet yet."

"Good call. Look, Sir, I've got to tell you, about Kitoro - "

"Wait!" The Gatekeeper's voice was suddenly much louder than I had ever heard it. "What ever else transpires, I must not hear what you discuss. It is not my time to know."

I watched him move to the door. "Thank you," I said. "You saved my life."

He nodded. "Perhaps, someday, you will repay the favour." I had no doubt he knew what he was talking about, even if he didn't know _when_ he was talking about. McCoy had to help close the door because it was still my old one, that wasn't set straight.

"What were you saying, Hoss?"

"Titania," I said. McCoy listened intently while I told him about my jaunt into the Nevernever.

He stay remarkably clam during the telling. His only comment after I finished was, "Could she have been talking about another plan? I know she couldn't lie, but she could easily misdirect."

"Another plan involving Peabody and various attempts to conquer the world?"

He paused, thinking. Then he used words I hadn't heard him say since the day we tried to fix the loft in his old barn, and he kept hammering his fingers.

"But why?" he added once he'd calmed down. "I don't get it. What did we do?"

I shook my head. "I have no idea, Sir."

"And who was this 'other' she mentioned?"

"Ah, that I can help with."

He looked a little surprised. "You can? You said you had the journal for all of thirty seconds."

"Okay, not necessarily something _I_ can help with."

His face got stony. "The shadow?"

"Her name is Lash. She's an all-county champion speed reader, and has a photographic memory."

He sat quietly for another second. "She break the code?"

_No. I know only what was written_.

I shook my head. "Not her area of expertise. But we can write it out for you."

McCoy considered for a moment, studying my face. Then he nodded. "I've trusted you both so far," he muttered. The he went to his time box and pulled out a yellow pad of lined paper, and three pens.

He handed them over, and I thought, _So, how do you want to do this? Take control of my hand?_

_No! No… there was a time when I would have, but I think it better if I just tell you what to write._

I smiled. _Fair enough_.

She dictated, and I wrote. It took until 10:00, then I handed it over. My hand was sore, but the bandage had been removed at some point, and I had added the beginning of yet another magnificent scar to my collection. "Here you go, Sir. Now, you know everything I know."

He sat on one of my overstuffed arm chairs. Mister came over to me and let me pet him for a few seconds, then went over to my teacher. Apparently, McCoy was in greater need than I. Between the ages of two and ten, that cat had not changed a bit.

"This'll take a little while."

"Is this the sort of thing you can figure out back in our own time?"

He looked up, then snorted. "Yeah, I think it's high time we got out of here. The other you going to be home soon?"

"Probably. I can't keep it all straight anymore."

"Then let's get gone."

We packed our stuff up quickly. All I really had to do was stand up, since Ebenezar had kept all of his stuff in the box. I was hungry, and so was Mouse, but neither of us complained. We spent most of the rest of the day walking back to the warehouse. I had time to think. I felt beneath my duster.

"He brought me through the Black Hall."

"Rashid?"

"I think so. I was a little dizzy, but the more I think about it…"

"Makes sense. That Council business I talked about? There was a meeting. After, the gatekeeper and I had a conversation. For various reasons, I loaned him the Key. So, you both would have had access to the Black Hall."

"Why didn't you take it back?"

"He needed it for several months."

"Not the Gatekeeper," I said, reaching under my duster, "me." I pulled out the Key, still slung around my neck.

He smiled without looking at me. "Call it a hunch, Hoss, but I think you're going to need it more than me from now on."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I kept quiet.

Back at the warehouse, McCoy set up the spell again, while I prepared myself. He explained it was much easier to go forward than back, since we would be surfing along with the current of time, instead of swimming against it. All the same, I kept the Soulfire and Hellfire on stand-by.

Of course, the ritual went flawlessly, and no one burned out their soul. When I opened my eyes, we were still in the warehouse, but when I looked at the floor, the sickly brown blood stain from the execution was there again. I was warm, but not as warm as when we'd left. Perhaps it was night time.

Outside, it was dark. The _Beetle_ and McCoy's old pickup were right where we'd left them, covered in a sprinkling of water. There were a few puddles around. A good rain must have come through, and taken some of the heat with it.

"Talk to you soon, Hoss."

"Yes, Sir." I shook his hand. "be careful."

"First thing I'm going to do is spread the word, quietly, to the rest of the Grey Council."

I nodded. "First thing I'm going to do is get something to eat."

He smirked and handed me my car key.

I stopped at Burger King on the way home, which Mouse and I both thoroughly enjoyed.

_Lash, I'm going to get a good night's sleep, then I think you and I are going to sit down and have a talk._

_About Outsiders?_

_Yes. And anything else that might seem important._

_Of course, Harry_.

I pulled into the driveway of my house. As Mouse and I got out of the car, my front door opened. A short blonde woman in jeans and a Cubs jersey came running out. Murphy got within four feet of me, then stopped dead. "Harry? Where the fuck have you been?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You've been gone for a month, where were you?"

"A month?!"

Molly came out of my dungeon apartment, now, and ran full tilt into me, gripping me with a fierce hug. My duster's repulsion charm blew her back into Murphy.

"Sorry, sorry about that," I said, and helped them both up. "Over-active jacket."

Molly was too winded to be angry. "Oh, Harry, thank God. I didn't know what to do!"

"Slow down! What's going on? What did I miss?"

"Bad things. Very bad things." Molly sounded on the verge of tears.

Murphy took over. "Three days after you left, a Warden came to check on you. Both of you. To see how Molly was progressing."

"I told him I didn't know where you were," Molly said. "He came back two days later, and then two days after that…" She trailed off.

"Harry," Murph continued, "you've been declared dead by the White Council. Show him," she said this last to Molly, who dug in a pants pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

It was a formal declaration to Molly that, since her instructor was dead, she would have to sit her Council exams. "This is bullshit," I whispered. "You're not ready. They should have assigned you a new instructor."

"Maybe they think I killed you," she said, completely serious. "Just call them, and tell them you're alive!"

"Right," I said, still stunned. "Okay. A month, unbelievable." I couldn't believe McCoy had overshot us by so far. "Got to call the White Council, then I have to call McCoy."

"Thank you, Harry," Molly said again. She hugged me with one arm, then zipped back inside, Mouse following her.

"That wasn't the only thing that happened, Harry," Murph said. "And what happened to your hands?"

"Wolves and air elementals. And what do mean that wasn't the only thing?"

"Three members of SI got sent to the hospital. They were putting down four trolls."

"Dammit. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help, Murph. It's going to take a while to explain."

"Get started whenever you want. I'm not going anywhere. The trolls were looking for you."

I stopped dead at the top of the stairs. "Looking for me," I repeated.

"That's what one of them said. When they couldn't find you, they got… unhappy. Any idea why?" She used her cop voice to ask that, and I winced.

I shook my head. "No. Hells' bells… one crisis at a time." I ran downstairs to grab the phone.

It started ringing as I was reaching for it. I jerked back. "Weird." I answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hoss?"

"Sir?"

"You hear what the date is?"

"Yeah. I was going to call and congratulate you on your aim."

"Look, I know how bad things are for you, already, but I've already spoken to a couple people. It's worse than you might know."

"Worse? Great! I've always said, if there's one thing the world needs more of, it's worse."

"Dammit, Harry, the Jade Court have entered the war! Formally. And the Red Court have renewed their offensives."

"What?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"Seems they were afraid of you, Hoss. You specifically. With you declared dead, they threw in."

I almost collapsed. The peace between the Courts and the Council had been fragile. But now it had shattered.

I found my voice, asked, "Anything else I need to know?"

"Just one thing. I started with pad you wrote out. He re-wrote the entire thing, except for the part Kitoro removed from his mind. I read that journal before. So, I took a quick glance, and found an entry I hadn't seen before." His voice got very quiet. "Harry, the only thing he mentions that wasn't in the other copy, was a reference to a Walker."

The Walkers. The Knights of the Outside. The Ur-Demons. The most destructive, evil things you could imagine. Pieces continued to fall into place. The last thing Peabody had done before his ill-fated escape form the White Council had been to unleash a mistfiend, a creature of the farthest reaches of the nevernever, bonded to mordite, a substance so antithetical to existence it was said to come from Outside.

He had suspected an Outsider was part of the Black Council, helping Titania. The Red Court may or may not have been getting help from an Outsider or two.

"We're in deep trouble, aren't we, Sir?"

"Yeah, Hoss. The deepest."

I hung up. "Harry?" Molly asked, quietly. I turned. She, Mouse and Murphy were staring at me. "What's going on?"

"Bad times are coming, Kid. Very bad times."


End file.
